I'll Always Be With You
by morgana07
Summary: Sam's in a coma after the Wall fell so Dean takes matters into his own hands to help save his brother's fragile psyche. Now both brothers must fight to survive an unexpected issue that arises. Angsty/worried!Dean /Comatose/lost/confused!Sam
1. Prologue

**I'll Always Be With You**

**Summary: **_Sam's in a coma after the Wall in his mind falls. Now, after the final events with Castiel and Purgatory, Dean decides to take matters into his own hands to help save his brother's fragile psyche. Using leftover dreamroot, he goes into Sam's mind to help him wake up but isn't expecting what he finds. Angsty/worried!Dean /Comatose/lost/confused!Sam_

**Tags/Spoilers: **While it's based on events through the series and up to the Finale, I'm not sure I'd tag it to anything but it may still contain some spoilers to the Finale so be wary.

**Warnings: **I'll rate it for language and some situations and I normally throw a warning per chapter if a scene requires one but just be alert for those.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the boys, the concept or anything to do with the show. The all-powerful and knowing Kripke does that. I'm using them for entertainment purposes and to withhold the boredom of all summer with no new episodes.

**A/N: **This was actually the first plot bunny that came to me after watching the Finale. It's changed shape a few times and even I don't know how it'll turn out in the end except we'll have drama, angst, tears, hurt boys (This is me we're talking about so when don't I hurt the boys?) and maybe even some flashbacks to Wee!Chesters or Teen!Chesters. Read and enjoy!

Prologue

"Damn it, boy! Will you slow down and listen to me!"

Having already wasted too much time as it was, Dean Winchester didn't plan on wasting anymore time listening to what he was already pretty sure was a standard Bobby Singer lecture on the rashness of Winchesters, especially when he already knew and accepted that this plan was more than rash.

"No time to waste, Bobby. I know what I'm doing," he remarked, moving things around in the Panic Room while reaching for the small bag in his back pocket. "Sam's been down too long so I'm going in after him."

Feeling like pounding his head in or slapping the oldest Winchester in the face to maybe bring him back to reality, Bobby Singer jerked his ever present trucker's cap off to toss it to the floor of the heavily secured from nearly everything Panic Room. "Dean, you've been through Hell in the past twenty-four hours and you don't know what Sam's facing in his head so…"

"Exactly!" whirling from the desk where he'd been double-checking his idea, his tired and worried green eyes landed on the prone, unmoving body of his younger brother and he felt his stomach twist in worry. "Sammy's been zoned out like this ever since he had that damn wall kicked down. Now I'm going in for him because I swore that I wouldn't let it fall and it did."

"Dean! You didn't cause the wall to fall. Castiel blasted it out from under him," Bobby argued, still recalling their panic when the Angel had moved behind Sam and then the boy had dropped like a stone. "You don't know what further damage going into Sam's mind could cause him…never mind the fact how do you plan on getting…Dean…"

The warning tone was there even before he noticed the bag in the young hunter's hand and wished he'd thrown that damn crap out before. "You know how dangerous dreamroot is, Dean."

"I know that it worked to help you and it'll work to get me to my brother," Dean replied shortly, mixing the ancient root in a glass of whiskey since he could easily recall the last time he'd drank the stuff. "Bobby, Cas opened Purgatory and has gone post nuclear. He's wiped Raphael off the map and could've done the same to us. I will not lose my brother to this crap and Sam can't fight this alone.

"Sammy's strong and he had to get stronger way too fast but as his brother and the guy who raised him and knows him better than anyone else I can tell you that he cannot handle this fight alone," he knew this even as he knew himself and considering he'd just barely gotten his brother back he wasn't about to lose him to this.

Looking between the two Winchester brothers, Bobby sighed. He'd known these boys since Sam had been in diapers and their Dad had all but dropped them on his doorstep. He'd taken them in at times when their own Father had been too busy, he'd been mentor/father/friend to both Sam and Dean for the past twenty-eight years.

He had watched these boys each fall and break only to come back stronger. Bobby had known Sam was going down a bad path when he first lost his brother after Dean went to Hell and things got worse for him as it went along.

Angels and Demons had tore his boys apart, lies and mistrust hadn't helped but Bobby had thought at the end, when Sam had made the choice to accept Lucifer in order to trap him in his Cage, that things had been getting better until Dean learned that his brother hadn't stayed long in that Cage and things went bad again.

Finding out that Sam's soul was missing had hurt Dean more than what the boy had done while without it. Dean had fought to get it back even when Sam hadn't wanted it and Bobby still recalled how far gone that side of Sam had been in his effort to not get his soul back and how close he'd come to killing Bobby.

"Dean, I know you don't want to lose him but if you go in and something happens…" the older hunter shook his head grimly. "What can you do for him in there? It's Sam versus his own mind."

Sitting down on the floor next to his brother's bed, Dean stared at the glass in his hand to something he'd placed in Sam's hand before reaching up to clasp that hand tightly in his before gazing up at Bobby with a simple smile. "I can show him that I'll always be with him and that he's not alone. Wish us luck."

A quick swig of the drink soon had Dean out like a light, leaving Bobby alone to worry over both of the boys while praying that Dean didn't see too much in Sam's memories that he'd never been meant to see and that Sam could handle what he was seeing.

"Luck? Hell, boy, I'll be prayin' for you both to get your asses back here," he muttered, situating a chair where he could watch both the basement and his boys while reaching for his shotgun as he settled in to wait.

TBC

**A/N: **Short part this time. Bear with me since even I'm not sure where this will go but come back as Dean explores the ever shaky mind of his brother while encountering things he knew and things he didn't…some of which don't want him to ever find Sam or save him.


	2. Chapter 1

**I'll Always Be With You**

**Chapter 1**

**Somewhere In Sam's Mind:**

"Well, that sucked," Dean groaned, wondering with dreamroot could spoil since he couldn't recall feeling like this the time he and Sam had used the stuff to go save Bobby's mind.

That time they had drank it and the transition had been smooth with them barely knowing it had worked until things stopped making sense and Bobby's house was actually clean.

Now his stomach was rolling, his head was throbbing, his chest was pounding and a strong urge of near panic made him leery of even opening his eyes. "Screw that," he growled, forcing his eyes to open only to scowl. "Damn that old man."

Seeing that he was laying on his bed up in the room that he and Sam always shared while visiting Bobby, Dean assumed that the concoction didn't work and Bobby had somehow gotten him upstairs to sleep. Dragging himself up, he sat still a while longer until he was certain he wouldn't pass back out or throw up when he noticed something that immediately sent his warning bells off.

The room was the same as it always was but it was when he noticed his old battered leather jacket tossed on the chair by his bed like he used to do when he wore it, which he hadn't since he parked the Impala at Lisa's. It was however what was on the nightstand between the beds that made him begin to question if maybe his plan had worked after all because he hadn't had the shiny gold amulet that Sam had given him the Christmas he was twelve since he'd tossed it in a fit of anger and lost faith.

Touching the amulet, Dean was wary but instinct made him put it on and was surprised at the relief he felt. It was the same instinct that made him put the jacket on, noticing that he also had his .45 on as well which concerned him since he wasn't sure if firing a weapon in a mindscape would be go for either him or his brother.

A loud thud from somewhere caused Dean to turn toward the door but it remained closed. Blowing out a breath, he finally knew that if he hoped to find his brother then he'd have to make that first move sooner or later. "Hang on, Sammy. I'm coming…_sonuvabitch_," he breathed upon opening the bedroom door only to be assailed by bright light then…

**Flashback:**

"De! De! De!" the happy baby squeal could be heard from the hastily decluttered living room of Bobby Singer's home.

Taking a quick glance in from the kitchen, the grizzled trucker cap wearing hunter sent a sour glare toward the other man sitting at his kitchen table pouring antiseptic over a long gash in his arm. "Damn it, John! I told you two things after we first met. The first, always make sure the damn critter's dead before you turn your back on it and…" another look back at a squeal and the sounds of blocks falling. "…give me a heads up before showing up so I can at least try to kid-proof this place."

A junkman by profession and a hunter by trade, Bobby hadn't had much need to keep his house clean or safe for small children…at least not until he met John Winchester for the first time and learned that the man habitually took his four-year old and eight-month old sons on hunts with him.

"Dean can watch his brother and keep him out of stuff, Bobby," John hissed, reaching for the bottle of alcohol to take the sting out of his wound. "Now can you keep them while I hunt this thing in Indiana or not?"

"If I don't you'll just take 'em with you," Bobby growled, looking up when he heard a soft step to see the older boy carrying his chubby little brother into the kitchen and seeing that the baby was still gurgling his favorite and first word. "Hey, Dean. Time for Sam's bottle?"

A silent nod since Bobby still could count on one hand the times he'd heard the older boy speak to anyone but the baby. He watched as John took his youngest son to give him the bottle that Bobby kept in the refrigerator and noticed that it was Dean who adjusted his brother's head to the correct angle and made him laugh when he started to fuss.

After feeding his son, John handed the baby back to the patiently waiting Dean with a smile. "Watch after Sammy, Dean," he told him but missed the eyeroll the child shot his father.

"John, I know we've had this talk before but…do you think it's right that a four-year old knows more about taking care of his brother than you seem to?" Bobby had noticed that right after his first meeting with the Winchesters. He'd also noticed something else this trip. "I mean, it ain't right that a baby's first word is his brother's name and not 'Daddy'."

"Mary always said that with as much time as they spent together that Sam would probably say 'Dean' before 'Mommy' or 'Daddy'," he shrugged, not seeming concerned but still caught an underlying current of tension that worried him. "I need Dean to learn how to protect his brother, Bobby. That's his job."

**Present time in Sam's head:**

Grabbing hold of the railing to keep his balance as the image hit him in full force, Dean was forced to sit down on the step to level his breathing. He'd been expecting to run into some memories of Sam's that he'd have to deal with but this one made no sense to him.

"Ain't no way this one should be here," he muttered, barely recalling this moment himself. "Sammy was too young to remember this so he shouldn't have this memory."

Staring at the still playing image, Dean knelt down to watch his younger self gently hold his baby brother as he fell to sleep and he knew the exact words he'd whispered to Sam that day. "I'll always be with you, Sammy," he repeated softly now, running a gentle finger down the still baby soft head of his brother and wondered if his Dad ever knew how stupid telling him to look after Sam was. "I always looked after him."

"Not always, but you tried your best considering you were always Dad's little soldier."

The voice caused his heart to stop because he recognized it instantly but it was the tone that warned him even before he stood to slowly face the man who had spoken.

"Sam."

Not 'Sammy' because if Dean was sure of one thing it was the version of his brother that stood in front of him right then was not his brother. At least not the boy he'd raised and loved. This was the 'Sam' that he'd dealt with right after learning the truth, this was the version of Sam without the soul that made him truly alive.

"You mean, the version of Sam that made him strong and decisive. That made him the hunter Dad always wanted him to be, not the wimpy, emo-filled girl you let him become," Robo-Sam remarked as if clearly seeing Dean's thoughts when he smiled a cold, emotionless smile, much like he had one other time in an alley. "You're in Sammy's head, big brother. In some way, you're connected to him so every thought, every emotion and memory you have I can pick up…of course, so can Sam…or he could if he was able to."

That made Dean tense but he retrained his first instinct of going for this bastard's throat to glare at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded lowly. "Where's Sam? The real Sam?"

"Oh, he's in here…somewhere," Robo-Sam replied, gazing at the infant without any feeling in his eyes. "That wall falling really screwed him up. Kid's got no clue who he is, where he is or who you are. He's ripe for the picking and once I take care of him and the other one…you're next, Dean. Because I don't plan on being erased and I don't plan on letting you save that spineless wuss."

Stepping up to look a clearly furious Dean in the face, he jabbed a finger straight into his chest. "You won't control me, you can't control me and that's why you wanted me gone and 'him' back. Little Sammy's gone, Dean and you can't save him because I won't let you," he declared coldly, raising the silver plated pistol he carried. "I could kill you now but I'll be fair and give you a sporting chance…before I put this bullet in Sammy's head."

Muscle twitching in his jaw, Dean fought to not simply smash his fist into the cold and hard face of this version of his brother. "You won't get the goddamn chance," he growled, shoving a hand against Robo-Sam but swore when it went straight through and he found himself alone. "I so hate that guy."

Getting a better picture of what he was up against now, Dean understood the risks to not only himself but also to his brother and that made him even more determined to find Sam and get him out of this whole because he also understood that if Robo-Sam gained control he'd be forced to do that one thing that he'd sworn never to do. Kill his little brother.

"Hang on, Sammy. I'm coming for you," he promised, opening the front door of Bobby's house to nothing but flame, searing heat and screams. "Shit!"

**Elsewhere in Sam's Mind:**

Still gasping and out of breath, a young man struggled to understand what he'd woke up to. Locked in a tiny room, he'd been easily able to break out but then the urge to run had come and he'd followed that. Bright lights, screaming sounds assaulted his every sense while occasionally his mind would flash with images he didn't understand.

The wallet in his jeans didn't help him since it had held several forms of ID but all with different names but he seemed to stop at one. "Sam Winchester," he whispered, wondering if that was who he was or if this was fake to. If he had this many Ids then who was he and why did he have them?

Confusion set in as he continued to run until a building came into sight that instincts deep inside told him that he'd be safe. Not knowing why a storage building would keep him safe from whatever it was that he was running from, he seemed to know the exact locked bin to head to and sighed with relief as he leaned against the metal door once he closed it after him.

Blinking when he opened his eyes, Sam stared at what was around him and began to wonder if this was a great place to be. He took in various types of weapons, from guns, to mines, to knives to things even he couldn't place right then.

The locker was packed full of stuff that should have seemed dangerous to him but as he picked up a rather shoddy looked sawed-off shotgun he smiled shakily because it made the nerves in his stomach settle down to touch it.

"This place is…weird," he decided, sitting down in a creaky desk chair to push some old battered and worn photos around when one came to the top. One of a boy around six with floppy brown hair that hadn't been cut so brutally short yet and a toddler of around two as they looked into the camera. The older child was holding the hands of the smaller boy while he clearly tried to walk on his own.

Placing his hand flat on the photo, Sam rubbed his head with his other hand as pain shot through it and he couldn't understand why or why the older boy's green eyes seemed so sad.

**Flashback:**

"Dad! Pastor Jim! Come look! Sammy's…sorta walking!"

Excited that his hard work at teaching his little chubby brother to walk was paying off, Dean just wanted his Dad to know that there was more to Sam than feeding, crying, and sleeping…even if he rarely saw any of that either. "Dad!"

"Jim and I are talking, kiddo," John Winchester did walk into the living room of Jim Murphy's home in Blue Earth, Montana with the pastor/hunter following to see what had excited his oldest son. "What's so important?"

Groaning, Jim felt like slapping his friend in the head for even asking that but restrained as he watched Dean quickly stand his teetering brother up against the front of the couch before scooting back about a foot.

"Sammy! Walk to Daddy, Sammy," Dean encouraged his giggling little brother, nodding to where their father had finally sat down in a chair that was really too far for the toddler's newfound legs but the boy figured he could catch him if he fell. "Walk to Daddy."

Jim sat on the back of the chair to watch the bright-eyed Sam chew on his hand a moment longer while looking between his Father and Dean. For a moment, Jim thought the boy might actually do what his brother was encouraging but then Sam made up his own mind and with a happy laugh launched himself away from the couch on shaky legs and made a beeline for his brother.

"De! De!" Sam's arms went around his brother's neck while he gave wet happy baby kisses to his laughing brother's face.

"Sammy," Dean groaned, latching onto his brother with one arm while wiping his face with his other hand before shooting his Dad a hopeful look. "He needs some practice on navigating."

John smiled tightly but did ruffle his older son's hair a little. "That or I might become concerned the day your brother calls you 'Daddy', kiddo," he teased, adding seriously. "Keep an eye on him while Jim and I talk then I need to get going. You two'll stay with Jim for a week."

Always quick to pick up on changes, Jim Murphy noticed the way Dean expression dropped at that comment but he remained silent except for what he'd whisper to his little brother who was trying to crawl over him.

"I'll help you get Sam navigating straight, Dean," the Pastor smiled and was relieved to see the older boy return the grin before he grabbed for his brother who was testing his new freedom a bit too much. "John…"

"Dean'll keep an eye on Sam while they're here, Jim," John was saying, ignoring the knowing look his friend was giving him. "Sam's barely two, Jim. He knows who his father is but he's happy with Dean. As he gets older, it'll change."

Seeing Dean at the edge of the door and noticing the look in the child's eyes left the Pastor wondering just what would change as John's sons grew and just who would raise Sam.

**Back to the Present:**

Gasping at the unexpected and unknown emotions that hit him, Sam's fist clenched the photos in his hand while his eyes burned. He didn't understand why his heart hurt or why he couldn't place the children in the memory or the photo.

"Because your grapefruit is so screwed up right now it isn't even funny."

Standing up to send the chair clattering back as Sam jumped up, his heart racing at the sudden appearance of… "You…you look like…"

"You, I know," Robo-Sam smiled, chilly eyes casual as they examined Sam before scanning the locker with only mild interest. "I'm the part of you that's not a weak-willed jelly fish but then you don't understand any of that just like you don't know anything else."

"I know…I know you tried to kill me," Sam spat, looking around as if trying to find a way out but noticing that his double had made certain to stay between Sam and the exit. "How'd you get inside here?"

Laughing with something close to amusement, Robo-Sam lifted a soccer trophy curiously before letting it fall to the floor. "We're inside your mind, Sam and, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm a part of it. A thoroughly disgusted part but a part of it," he shrugged, moving his jacket aside and the silver plated pistol could be seen but he didn't make a move to pull it yet. "You got out of that lockbox easier than I thought but running isn't going to help you."

Easing around the desk to put more distance between himself and his doppelganger, Sam felt the pain in his head again but fought it this time. "If you're a part of me, a part of whatever this is, then why the hell are you trying to kill me?" he demanded sourly, fingers brushing over a silver knife.

"First, if I'd seriously tried to kill you yet you'd be dead and my troubles would be over," the other version replied with a cold flat look. "Second, I'm going to kill you eventually because you're weak, you're too emotional and you were better off when I was in control. It would've been easier to do this before _he_ got involved because Dean's emotions and memories are going to make getting you under control harder."

That name made Sam's eyes look up. It made him a little more at ease for reasons he couldn't place yet but the sudden smirk on the other's face made him feel sick. "Dean?" he repeated, having heard the name in that memory and knowing he should know it but not placing it.

"Man, you are so messed up," Robo-Sam laughed, taking a step closer. "Big brother couldn't leave well enough alone and came in here to help you. He thinks he can save you again but it's not happening because I'll kill him before I let you back out there," he'd pulled the pistol and cocked his head slightly when he saw the way Sam tensed. "All of Dad's teaching and you flinch at a gun? Damn, no wonder he was ashamed of you but I'm the one who will make you the hunter again that Dad wanted and I could end this right now with a simple…what?"

A hand grabbed the wrist reaching for the pistol and twisted hard as a slender form put itself between the two versions of Sam. "Go, Sam," it said without looking back, jerking the arm of Robo-Sam a little harder to shove him back into a wall of shelves and only then turning to glance at the confused main psyche. "Run, Sammy."

Staring hard at the young man with short, almost spiky, dark hair, intense green eyes and battered leather jacket and gold amulet around his neck, Sam wanted to ask who he was or what was happening but didn't as the teenager gave him a cocky smile that Sam almost near and he could only nod, running out of the locker.

Waiting to be sure Sam was clear, the image smirked at the furious Robo-Sam while sitting on the edge of the desk. "You honestly thought it would be that easy, dude?" he scoffed, not blinking at the gun in his face. "T2, think about it. I'm an image, something Sam's mind is instinctively creating to protect himself. You can shoot but in the end the only way to get to Sammy…is through my dead body."

"It'll be that way, 'big brother'," Robo-Sam growled, debating which to deal with first and deciding the best way to handle Sam was to throw up the guilt card and he knew which memories to use for that as he and this memory vanished while knowing what Dean would be coming into right about now as well and wondering if he knew just how closely he was connected to this reality. "Enjoy the trip, Dean."

TBC 


	3. Chapter 2

**I'll Always Be With You**

**Warning! **_This chapter carries it's own warning for mentions and descriptions of abuse so reader beware._

**Chapter 2**

"Shit, shit, shit!" Dean swore violently when he'd opened what had been the front door to Bobby's house only to step into nothing but flame, fire, and screaming confusion.

The moment he didn't feel heat and wasn't burned, he knew what this was and his fear for Sam went to ice cold terror. "Sammy!" he shouted, feeling the heat dying done and not sure if it was a good thing or not that the mass of confused sound in this thinning image wasn't bothering him. "Sam?"

"Go back…Dean. Please go back."

Whirling around to see the flames had dissipated enough that he could see the hunched over figure sitting in the corner of a filthy, cluttered tiny room.

Dean swallowed hard, hating this room of cold rock but above all else hating that his brother had been exposed to this even for a short time. "Sammy? It's okay. I know it doesn't look like it now but it'll be okay. I'll make it that way again…"

"No! Don't…don't come near me!"

Battling back tears that wanted to come at the anguish in this voice, Dean didn't have to ask to know this wasn't the part of his brother that he needed to find either. He knew by the scene, the tone and the way he was sitting that this was the side of Sam that he'd prayed his brother never had to cope with. This was the side that had seen the inside of the Cage.

Having survived or at least coped with the Pit and the worst of it for four months or forty years Hell time, Dean had more than a hunch of what his brother had probably endured at that brutal hands of two pissed off feuding Archangels.

"Sam…I'm not the one that can help you right now since it's Sammy who needs to accept these memories back but I promise you that I will get you all through this and I'll be there to help you cope with the nights and the days," Dean promised, getting as close as he felt it was safe to right then before kneeling down. "I will find him and get this under control."

Shaking his head, this version of Sam kept his face averted from Dean despite wanting to reach out so badly. "You can't," he whispered, voice rough as if from screaming too much and too loudly. "He won't let you. He wants control and he'll kill you if he can. Please get out, Dean."

"I can handle Robo-you, kid," Dean assured him, confident that was who they were referring to. "I can handle him to find the you I need and then he won't be an issue anymore. Sam…" pausing a beat, he slowly reached out but didn't touch the younger man. "I'm sorry I didn't you out sooner."

"Cas got me out when he could but…it was too late from the moment I woke up there," Hell-Sam mumbled, still keeping his face buried against the arms he had wrapped around his legs. "I didn't regret it, Dean but…God, it hurts."

Understanding that, Dean wished he could reach out to this emotionally crushed and physically injured side of his brother but knew that he couldn't yet. Only when Sam accepted these memories could he then be helped…he could only hope his brother survived long enough to accept them.

"I can't make it up to you, Sam and I wish to God I could've spared you that pain," he told the younger man quietly, adding this failure to his own long list of things that he'd failed his brother on when he caught movement. "Sam?"

"You never told me, Dean," Hell-Sam whispered, shifting his head enough that he could gaze at Dean without letting himself be seen.

Frowning slightly, Dean considered that before shaking his head slowly. "No, I never told you everything about Hell because I prayed I could keep you from ever knowing that pain but…"

"No, you never told me the rest," the rough voice seemed to grow softer, more childlike. "You never told me what you gave up to raise me. You never told me how you sacrificed so I could eat, or what you had to do so we always had rent money or money to live on when Dad never came home. You didn't tell me about the fights you and Dad had…over me."

"I hate Angels," Dean muttered under his breath, not having to guess that it was Michael who had probably only been too happy to share those details with his tormented little brother. "No, I didn't tell you about that crap because it was my problem. It was my job to protect you and you were never supposed to know about it."

Finally lifting his head, Hell-Sam met Dean's eyes with a sad smile as the image seemed to start to flicker. "You couldn't always protect me, Dean. You tried your best but the older I got, the harder it got and I tried to keep you out of it when I could but sometimes…sometimes I needed you so much…be careful, Dean."

Confused on that last comment, Dean was reaching out when the image seemed to flash violently out of his control and he was turning to find himself in woods surrounding a tiny cabin next to clear blue lake. "I know this," he knew this but couldn't place it until he heard the sound of a truck pulling up the driveway and suddenly it began to click into place…but in a sickening way.

Seeing Jim Murphy's old truck pull up, Dean knew the next moments well since he remembered hunting for a week with Pastor Jim and their mutual friend Caleb while an already sick Sam had remained at Jim's old fishing cabin with their Father.

Hard scowl already in place, Dean turned from this image to stalk toward the back of the cabin where he knew what he'd find because he clearly remembered what he had found that hot, humid and sticky afternoon.

**Flashback,1996:**

"Get up and come at me again, Sam," John Winchester was well beyond furious and it showed in his voice and how rough he was when he deflected the weak offensive blows of his thirteen year old son.

The past week, John had taken the opportunity of having some one on one time with Sam to actually test the boy's skills and to say he was disappointed was an understatement. His youngest son's hand to hand abilities were poor, his hand-to-eye coordination was worse, his marksmanship skills were nearly nonexistent and he was all around lazy and unwilling to listen.

Today was the worst because the harder he pushed the more petulant and stubborn Sam got. John had thought he'd taught his son what would happen if he disobeyed or didn't do what was expected of him the first night but clearly he'd been wrong so when the boy messed up a simple attack step he reacted.

"You're sloppy and not paying attention, Sam," he snapped, the backhand blow knocking the boy to the ground where he laid gasping for air that his already straining lungs were screaming for. "I want you to start paying attention and learning more discipline that your brother's obviously been using. Give me two hundred pushups…now!"

Knowing the punishment for either disobedience or not moving fast enough, Sam struggled to move but still being sick with the flu had left him weak, the early morning and late night runs around the lake and finally the all-night stay out in the woods last night in the rain had left him running on fumes and burning with fever.

"…Dad, I…" he tried to say when a rough hand grabbed him by the back of his sweat soaked sweatshirt, jerked him off the ground and then he was seeing stars and tasting blood as a hard fist struck his face repeatedly until he was finally tossed back to the hard ground, landing on his elbow and fighting not to scream as pain exploded.

"You so much as say 'can't' and I will beat you bloody again, Sam," John growled, not believing how weak his youngest was. "You're gonna pick yourself up, give me two hundred push-ups and then another run around the lake before you'll even think about dinner," he ordered, shaking his head furiously. "Dean's been too easy on you when I'm not around. Your brother knows better and I'll remind him of that as soon as he gets back."

Feeling pain everywhere and near to passing out, Sam's blurry mind locked onto that one thing and reacted on pure instinct. Reaching out blindly, he tried to grab his father's leg to pull. "No…you…won't hurt…De'n," he gasped, yelping at the feel of something cracking in his side with the first kick and he attempted to curl up from what he knew would come next even as the belt struck once.

Twisting under the new agony, Sam tried to crawl away to avoid the next blow when he saw his father's arm draw back to strike again just as a hand caught the belt to yank it away and a voice even more furious and outraged than his Father's was heard through the thunder in Sam's head.

"What the hell?"

Seventeen-year-old Dean had come out the cabin's back door after not finding his sick brother where he figured he should be and catching sight of the beating his father was delivering from the kitchen window.

White-hot rage had flown over him the moment he saw the belt strike once and didn't intend to give it a chance for a second. Catching the heavy leather, that he knew all too well what it felt like, around his fist as it came back to lash out again, he yanked it out of John Winchester's grasp and across the yard before he stepped between Father and brother.

Ignoring the fury in John's gaze, Dean's eyes shifted to his brother and with a harsh oath he dropped next to the younger boy. "Sammy?" reaching out a careful hand to touch his sweating, shaking little brother he pulled back at the first whimper. "What the hell, Dad?" he demanded tightly, hearing Caleb calling his name but focusing on Sam who had curled into a ball.

Not liking how white Sam appeared to be, or how he was sweating, Dean scowled at the heavy sweat clothes his brother was wearing and went to lift the sweatshirt up to remove it when Sam cried out and soon Dean saw why and then he was seeing red.

"What the hell did you do to him?" he demanded, not looking back but focusing on the mass of welts on his brother's back that the heavy shirt had clung to and was almost afraid to look further when the way Sam was holding his elbow caught his attention. "_Sonuvabitch_!"

"Get away from your brother, Dean," John ordered sternly, not caring for having his lesson interrupted and not liking his older son's actions. "Sam, pick your lazy ass up and give me those push-ups or I'll…"

"Go to hell, Dad," Dean snorted, carding shaking fingers through Sam's slick, sweat-soaked hair and felt the fever burning. "He's sick. He was sick when we left and you knew it. So back off."

Furious already by Sam's lack of obedience, this open lack of respect from Dean finally pushed John past the point of caring. Shoving Dean hard from behind, he pushed him away from Sam. "I said get away from Sam, Dean and I meant it!" he growled, reaching to grab his older son by the shoulder to yank him up to face him when he was reminded of the wiry strength Dean had.

Not surprised by the shove since a part of him had been expecting it; the move had only served to fuel the rage slowly building so when he felt the hand touch his shoulder he exploded. Pushing to his feet and whirling with an agility he rarely showed, Dean had pulled the .45 he'd kept tucked into his belt and now aimed it straight in his father's face.

"Go ahead, Dad," he invited, green eyes hard and anger making his already rugged features seem sharper as he glared at John. "Touch me or Sam now and see how well my marksmanship is. Try to make me do half of the crap you probably had him doing while I was gone! Or try to touch Sam again and I will drop you where you're standing now."

Muscles tight, fury reining John considered making a move the moment Sam made a sound and Dean's attention was briefly distracted but before he could disarm his son, a strong body was pushing between them and the outraged voice of Jim Murphy was in his ears.

"Stop it, both of you!" Jim snapped, trying to see what had caused this latest fight between father and son when he heard Caleb let out a sharp oath and looked to where the bald young hunter was staring and felt his fist clench in John's shirt to push him away from the boys. "Step back, John or I might not stop Dean next time."

Shoving the .45 back in his belt, Dean knelt back to lightly try to ease his brother to his back when he swore viciously over his shoulder but made himself focus on Sam. "Sammy? C'mon, little brother. Wake up now," he urged quietly, one quick look told him that their Dad must have started on Sam the moment after Dean had left before he saw bruises on the kid's face that would fall in that timeline. "Sammy, wake up for me so I know how bad it is."

Confused by the change in tone and by the gentleness of the hands touching him, Sam whimpered but did force his eyes open to stare up with glassy hazel eyes that had the pupils blown wide in shock but some recognition was there because he tried to reach for his brother. "De?" he whispered, voice hoarse. "…home?"

"Yeah, Sammy. I'm home," Dean assured him, giving another quick look to gauge it and decided that he needed to get the kid out of the sun and into the cabin. "I'm home and we're gonna take a look at you now."

"Nooo, Dad'll…get mad," Sam tried to push up but fell back with a groan and gave a small cry when he felt himself lifted. "De'n?"

"Jim'll handle it, Sammy," Dean could tell his brother had cracked ribs and probably the beginning of pneumonia by the way he was struggling to breathe but was careful when he lifted him up to carry him back inside. "Caleb can relate the tales of our adventures…though remember what I said about only believing a quarter of what he says."

One look told Caleb how close this situation was to going bloody if Dean didn't get inside soon so as he moved to put himself between his friend and his mentor, he felt like groaning at the next sound he heard and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Damn. This close, this damn close and he opens his mouth."

"Dean! I gave you an order and I expect you to follow it!" John shouted, despite Jim trying to shut him up. "Now put your brother down and show me that you still remember half of what I taught you because you are as hell aren't teaching him anything but how to be a goddamn lazy, wimp and that's not what I need from you boys!"

Dean's body had gone stone cold still as those words registered and the muscle in his jaw twitched. "Caleb?" he called quietly, turning before his friend could reply to carefully ease Sam into his arms. "Take him inside."

"C'mon, Ace, let it go," Caleb urged as Sam whimpered at the unfamiliar arms until the voice was recognized. "Sammy needs…"

"Take. Sam. Inside." Dean spoke again, turning back to his father, dropping the leather jacket on the ground and was in John's face a second later. "Sam is thirteen goddamn years old! He's not like me and he's sick! He's not a Marine, I'm not a Marine! We're your sons and if you touch my brother again it'll be a mistake!"

Shoving between them again, Jim Murphy finally had had enough and pushed the teenager toward the house. "Dean, go start cooling Sam down. I'll be in soon," he ordered, shooting the angry young man a look. "Dean…go."

"Keep him away from Sammy," Dean snapped but stalked back to the house even as he heard his Dad and Jim start to fight.

Seeing that Caleb had placed Sam on his bed and had gone to start running an ice bath to help get his fever down, Dean sat on the edge of the bed to gently touch his little brother and held his breath when the boy turned on instinct and curled himself around his brother.

"It's okay, Sammy," he whispered, hand shaking as it stroked slicked down hair back away from a bruised and swollen face. "I'm here now and I swear this won't happen again. I'll always be with you…"

**Present day in Sam's Mind:**

Swallowing the bitter bile that was threatening to come up, Dean leaned against a tree to regain his bearings. He vividly recalled that day since Dean could still recall the sounds of the fight between Jim Murphy and his Dad while he struggled to contain his own fury at his little brother's injuries, the fever and the moment Dean discovered that Sam hadn't eaten in two days he had nearly exploded again.

"It wasn't your fault and you always tried to do your best."

The young voice was quiet and the smaller hand that touched his shoulder was instantly recognized if not immediately believed.

"My best sucked that time," Dean sighed, shifting to look down in instinct and found himself looking into the bright eyes of his thirteen-year old brother's image but this time he looked healthy, if concerned. "Sammy."

Throwing a look to the cabin, young Sam sat down on the ground with his legs crossed to gaze back up at Dean. "You shouldn't be in here, Dean." he remarked knowingly. "It's too dangerous."

"Danger's my middle name, little brother," Dean eased into a kneeling position in front of the boy. "What's up with the trip down bitter memory lane?"

"He's trying to make you remember the times you've thought that you've failed me so that you'll get discouraged or do the self-loathing thing again and either pull out or be easy to be picked off," young Sam replied, using a stick to draw some sigals in the dirt rather than look up. "He's got plenty to choose from."

Snorting, Dean decided to keep to himself what he could on that topic. "I was supposed to protect you Sam so whenever you were hurt reflected on me but…" shooting a dark look back to the cabin he frowned. "Care to tell me exactly what set this off?"

"I was sick, cranky, wanting you and mouthed off for one thing," young Sam shrugged, explaining when he felt the look he knew would be aimed at him. "Dad bitched that you weren't teaching me right because I hadn't done the morning routine correctly and I popped something off. That started the week out wrong and it just got worse…until that day happened and I really don't remember everything from it or the days afterward."

That didn't surprise Dean since his brother had burned with infection and fever for three days after his arrival and once he'd feared that not taking Sam to the closest ER the instant he saw him had been a mistake. "Whoa, I taught you the morning routine just like Dad taught me and you had that down pat so…" as he thought about Dean suddenly figured he knew what had happened even before this young image nodded.

"You always let me slide on the pledge and I forgot to do it and Dad flipped out," he sighed, shivering a little as a cold wind blew through the scene. "I was sick anyway and not doing what he wanted. I wanted you, he wouldn't let me call you and the one time I tried is the first time he broke a rib. Dean…you couldn't protect me all the time. You tried and…"

"I took it all to keep you safe, little brother and I'll take it all now to get you back," Dean assured him, laying a gentle hand on the smaller boy's arm and was startled when he suddenly had an armful of younger brother as this smaller version of Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck to squeeze tightly, much like he had before. "Sammy…"

Arms locked tight, young Sam's eyes were closed. "I love you, Dean," he spoke quietly, easing back after a couple moments to smile shyly. "It's scary."

"Hang tough for a little while longer, Sammy. I'm gonna find you," Dean promised, swallowing the words that wanted to come when the image began to flicker and he found himself sitting in the Impala outside a motel and with a groan he knew what night this was. "Damn it."

**Elsewhere in Sam's mind:**

Having run, Sam finally had to stop when his chest ached so much it hurt. Still trying to process things, he fell back against a door to a motel when he suddenly gasped as it gave way to another image but this time it didn't have the same real effect as the previous one did.

Standing inside the room he took in the scene of two boys, one older than the other in what had obviously been Christmas. He looked at the Barbie doll on the floor and felt a smirk form even if he didn't know why but he frowned as he watched the older boy hold out a gold amulet that he'd been given.

He'd seen that amulet hanging around the neck of the teenager who had given him the chance to escape earlier. He also had other images of seeing it on an older man and he could recall seeing it hovering over a trashcan and feeling his heart hurt at the sound of it dropping.

"De…Dean?" he whispered, reaching out to touch the amulet laying in the boy's hand when he suddenly was blinded as lights struck and when they cleared he was seeing another memory. Now he was seeing what he knew was the same two boys, well teenagers, but this time he felt his chest tighten as the younger one who he suddenly understood was him at some age of around sixteen leaned in the bathroom door to watch…

Flashback, 1999:

"…Dean?"

"Go to bed, Sam," Dean's voice was tight as he carefully splashed water on his face while trying not to get it on the white gauze he'd sloppily managed to place over a large welt on his chest. Staring into the foggy mirror of the motel bathroom, he stared at the yellowing and purplish bruises on his face and figured the ones on his ribcage and back would look the same.

The heavy sigh from the door made him want to snap over his shoulder but held it back since he knew from the moment Sam had finally seen his back and figured out why he'd been avoiding him the past few days the kid would go all emotional on him.

"What happened?" Sam was scared he knew how his brother got hurt but didn't want to ask, knowing Dean would close him off more than he had been the past week.

Sam had known after he'd run away from Dean to go to Flagstaff for two weeks that his brother would be pissed and he'd certainly expected holy hell to break loose the moment their Father had found him and dragged him back.

If Sam was honest with himself he'd been expecting John to go postal the second they were alone or at the very least beat the hell out of him when they got back to the motel but John had just given a stern lecture on how stupid and dangerous that stunt had been and to never do it again before shoving the sixteen-year old into the motel, giving his older son a furious look that spoke volumes before slamming back out on a hunt that had come up.

That was when Sam realized that he would've rather had his Dad's verbal and physical abuse than suffer the anguish of his brother's silence. He had been expecting Dean to be angry with him since he'd skipped out on him so Sam was waiting for the fight to happen or the bitter sarcasm that he knew his brother used when angry but he hadn't expected Dean to simply turn around and walk away from him without a word.

The past week Dean had made it a point to avoid him as much as possible while still making sure he didn't run off again. Dinner was normally take-out and eaten in awkward silence and the first few nights after getting back his brother would sleep on the lumpy couch in the living room.

When he did sleep in the bedroom they shared Dean had made certain to either stay in the bathroom until Sam was in bed or he'd already be in bed before Sam finished his shower. This night something had gone wrong in the routine because it had been unusually hot that day and Dean had been unusually moody and not acting right so when he'd twisted in bed to try to find a cool spot and Sam heard the first curse he was awake.

Flipping on the light, it was that moment that the teenager saw the mottled with bruises and welts his brother's back was and could tell by the way Dean was holding his side that he more than likely also had either cracked or broken ribs so when the heat in the bedroom combined with the pain he was in made him go into the bathroom, Sam followed.

"Guess that's why you're not talking to me," he murmured, taking a step further into the small bathroom to watch his brother's amulet swing from his chest as Dean bent to scoop water over the back of his neck. "Is that why Dad didn't touch me, Dean? Dad didn't punish me for running away because he'd already punished you?"

"Go to bed, Sam," Dean's ribs were hurting because he'd hurt them again while working at an odd job earlier that day and the heat was making things worse. He just didn't feel like handling this right then. "I got hurt on a hunt and…"

A tentative hand touched his back and his instinctive reaction was to whirl, knocking the hand away and giving his brother a not so gentle shove away. He immediately regretted both actions even before he caught the way Sam's eyes dropped to the floor and his face fell.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Sam whispered, stepping back as if expecting the fist to finally come and knowing that he couldn't blame Dean if he did lash out at him. "It wasn't your fault and Dad shouldn't have taken it out on you. I ran away because I just wanted to try to be normal for once but I didn't think he'd be back that soon or that he'd…"

"Watching you is my job, protecting you is my job so to say Dad was less than pleased that my sixteen year old brat of a brother slipped away on my watch would be the understatement of the freakin' century," Dean replied sourly, then sighed. "Sam…"

Shaking his head, the younger boy backed away as guilt began to set in as he understood why his Dad hadn't lashed out at him. He'd taken all his rage out on Dean. "I'm…" a sharp glare reflected from the mirror made him turn and run from the bathroom, guessing his brother wouldn't care at that point where he went so long as he didn't have to look at him.

Considering slipping out to sit in the muggy night air, Sam figured leaving the motel probably wouldn't be a good plan so he slumped down on the corner of the couch to run his fingers over the battered leather jacket that had once been their Dad's until he'd given it to Dean.

Thinking back to the freedom he'd had in Flagstaff, Sam's guilt tripled as he thought of the pain his brother had suffered, not to mention the worry, while he'd been focusing on himself. Swallowing the sudden burst of emotion that threatened, he was oblivious to the presence next to him until he felt the couch go down as Dean eased down beside him. "He should've hurt me, not you. I was the one being selfish but I didn't think Dad would be home that soon and I was counting on you, if anyone, finding me. Dean, I'm…"

"I know you're sorry and yeah, you were selfish," Dean nodded, leaning back as much as he could since right then he couldn't stand to have the couch touch his bare back and it was too hot to think of wearing a shirt.

Noticing the way Sam's body went rigid, Dean reached out to grab a hold of his brother's neck to hold him in place and to make him look at him; green eyes more calm now since he understood what Sam didn't. "I wouldn't have let him touch you, Sam so I took the beating knowing if Dad didn't get rid of most of that rage before he found you that you'd never have stood a chance," he shrugged. "Besides, it was worse because he also took the opportunity to pay me back for standing up to him that time you were thirteen and I stopped him from beating the crap outta you."

"I don't blame you if you hate…" Sam felt the fingers tighten on his neck in a way that meant to shut up and he nodded.

"I was and I am still pissed off, Sam but I could never hate you. Nothing you ever did or will do will make me hate you," Dean told him, able to lean back finally he made certain to keep a hand on his brother to let Sam know that they'd be fine. "You're my brother, Sammy and for better or worse, I'll always be with you…"

**Present day in Sam's Mind:**

Silent tears streaked Sam's face as he took in this memory and flashes of other things began to come to him as he focused on that amulet and the green eyes that reminded him of safety even as darker images tried to intercede.

Bitter fights, lies, harsh words that Sam struggled to ignore but that seemed to be trying overwhelm him until he could hear a cold, harsh voice repeated over a call-phone message and swallowed the lump that formed.

Dropping down to sit on the floor, Sam couldn't help feeling both helpless and lost while struggling to ignore the cold dread building in his chest.

"You know, Dad knew all along what you'd become and big brother, that was all duty and obligation."

The toneless voice made him blood freeze as he looked up to see his soulless self watching him from the door of the tiny, rundown room. "You're me and this is really…"

"Your mind and I'm getting tired of you putting this off and Dean not doing what I expect him to," he replied, rolling his eyes in as close to frustration as he ever would allow himself to get. "Face it, Sammy. After all the pain, hassles, and sacrifices that you've cost him, even I'm surprised that Dean's bothering with doing this big brother thing anymore."

With a snap of his fingers, memories of various times of his life shot toward Sam at bullet speed and his mind tried to make sense of everything but even though he tried to lock onto the happy memories he could see the more vivid ones were the darker ones that involved the pain and more often the meanness his father could dish out. He saw the fights between him and Dean, especially toward the end of the Apocalypse.

"No…" he whispered, seeing the flames as Jessica died, feeling his disillusionment grow every time their hunt for John took them further from the truth until it all built to a boiling point and that ghost of the Asylum doctor was able to influence Sam to shoot Dean through a wall. "Dean…no, he won't leave…"

"Big brother won't hesitate to drop you once I'm done, Sammy," Robo-Sam bragged a second before the door to the room slammed shut and locked and he pulled the silver plated pistol. "It's over. Dean'll either get smart and get out in which case I'll deal with him once I gain full control or I'll kill him in here and be done with it but either way, it's time you say goodbye cause I'm taking control and you're going bye-bye."

Mind ravaged from memories and the feelings they all came with, Sam was fighting to bring his mind, memories, emotions and abilities all back under his control when the sound of a pistol cocking snapped his glassy hazel eyes up to see his own face aiming a weapon at his heart.

"Bye, wimp," Robo-Sam smiled, finger moving on the trigger only a second before the report of the gun sounded and things began to go black for Sam…

TBC

**A/N: **Uh-oh. Which of Sam's psyches will end up gaining final control? Can Dean break out of his own dream twist in time to find and help his brother or will Robo-Sam end things in his own way? Come back for Chapter 3 to find out.


	4. Chapter 3

**I'll Always Be With You**

**Warning: **I'll toss up a general one for minor violence and other assorted mentions. Nothing like Chapter 2, just mentions.

Chapter 3

**Sam's Mind:**

A sound like a gunshot seemed to explode in Dean's mind and sent a shockwave of pain and hurt through his heart but then his attention was drawn to where he found himself.

Running a hand over the dash of the Impala, he exited the car and touched the doorknob of the room just as something hit the wall and almost with a knowing sigh he pushed it open to…

**Flashback 2001:**

"No! You seriously thought this was going to happen? I humored the whole straight A, need to go to school crap because it at least kept you focused on one thing but this? This crap here? Oh, no, this is not happening!"

"I'm eighteen and can do what I want! I earned this with no thanks or help from you, Dad!"

Stepping into the room, twenty-two year old Dean was immediately setting down the chicken buckets he'd brought his family for dinner only to find what he'd been finding more and more these last few years: his Dad and brother into a in-your-face screaming match but this night he knew something was different about it and that was before he caught sight of the crumpled lettered on the floor between them.

"Dinner's here!" he called loudly to be heard over the shouting but sighed the moment John pinned him with a cold, harsh look.

"Did you know about this crap that your brother's been pulling behind my back?" he demanded sharply, jerking a finger to the college acceptance letter. "Did you know that Sam's actually been thinking that he had a shot at going to college, some fancy college no less, and leaving his family and the family business behind? Did you know that?"

Seeing the silent rage in his brother's eyes, Dean knew this night was going to explode in a bad way if he didn't try to defuse it but he also wasn't certain how to handle this without disappointing someone he loved. "Yes, sir. I found out when the letter first came," he admitted, seeing John's gaze narrow. "Dad, Sammy ain't like…"

"Sammy's a damn fool if he thinks I'm letting him go clear to California and abandon his family!" John snapped, whirling back to shove a finger into his younger son's chest. "This family needs him and that's it, so all that so-called hard work was wasted cause you aren't going anywhere!"

"You can't stop me!" Sam threw back, ignoring the quiet warning from his brother to stand up to their Father but didn't resist the gentle nudge that came.

"I'm your Father, boy! If I don't sign those damn papers then you aren't going…" John snapped angrily, grabbing Sam by the shoulder to jerk him back around after he'd gone to turn away only to find his own head snapping back viciously when his often reluctant to hunt or train son used to own momentum to slam a hard right hook into John's face. "Ugh!"

Eighteen years of anger, abuse, disappointment and a myriad of other emotions all finally settled on Sam so when those words sank into his head along with the rough hand that grabbed him, he allowed it all to boil over and he reacted on pure gut instinct.

"No, you're not!" Sam shouted furiously, in his Father's face. "You may be my Father my blood but you're not my Dad. A Dad, a real one, raises his kids. He loves them for what they are and supports the choices that they want to make! They don't beat the hell out of them when they disagree with him, or they don't refuse even the littlest thing in their lives!

"You didn't raise me! Dean did! Dean did everything for me that my 'Dad' should've done!" he went on, no longer caring what he said or the reaction it got which is why Sam missed the fury building on John's face and the horror on his brother's. "Dean taught me to walk, to talk, to ride a bike! My brother raised me and at least he loved me! You sure as hell didn't!"

John's eyes had narrowed dangerously the moment he'd been hit but now his face went white with rage and his hunter's reaction pushed him over as he grabbed his younger son by the throat to slam him against the wall and his fist would've collided with the boy's throat if a strong body hadn't wedged itself between them to shove John away from Sam.

"Dad, stop it!" Dean yelled, having to strain to break his father's grip on his younger brother. "Dad! Let him go!"

Breaking the hold, John spit blood while he glared at his sons. "Dean, stay out of this or…"

"You don't touch Sam again, Dad," Dean warned, pushing his Father up against the wall to keep him from going after Sam again after he'd stormed toward the bedroom. "He's eighteen and I've been telling you that you can't keep him tied to you like I've been."

Glaring at Dean, John looked like he must lash out at him until his attention was brought back to Sam who stalked toward the door carrying two bags. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"To school!" Sam snapped, hearing but ignoring Dean's plea to wait a minute. "I've worked hard to get this shot! I didn't let you keep me down! I didn't let you do to me what you did to Dean when it came to school! I wanted out, I told you that I wanted out and I'll get out!

"Sam, c'mon…" Dean tried to get between them but was shoved into the table as John took a step toward Sam only to stop at something he saw in the boy's eyes.

Fists clenched, John glared at the younger boy. "You walk out that door, Sam, don't ever walk back in because if you walk on us I don't ever want to see you again!" he warned, not hearing the sharp breath from his oldest son.

A brief look of surprise flittered over Sam's face as if not expecting that ultimatum and then he nodded tightly. "I won't," he replied, hefting his one bag over his shoulder to walk out the door.

"Sam!" Dean took a snap only to be jerked back but before John could give the order that was coming he pulled his arm free, grabbed up his jacket and keys to rush after his brother. "Sammy!"

Having only made it to the edge of the parking lot, Sam had paused as if considering his next move since he now admitted that he'd jumped a little too fast. Wiping a hand over his eyes to clear the sudden blurry vision he turned when he heard a familiar sound pull up next to him. "Dean…?"

"Get in and I'll give you a lift," this was one of the worst nights of his life but Dean was dead set against allowing his baby brother to walk nearly six miles to the bus station. "Sam, get in."

Debating for a long moment, Sam finally tossed his bags into the back seat before getting into the Impala. "Uh, thanks," he mumbled, surprised by this move on the part of his brother but hating the awkward silence that filled the drive to the bus station. "Dean, I'm…sorry that it…that it happened like this. I just need…"

"Yeah, I know, Sammy," Dean sighed, hating this more than anything since he didn't want to let his brother go but also accepting that Sam needed a chance to find his own place in the world. "Dad didn't mean what he said. He's just…"

"He meant it, Dean," Sam whispered, fingering the black band he still wore on his wrist and noticing that Dean still wore an identical one. "Dad just can't take it when anyone disagrees with him and I…just can't do it right now. I'm sorry for what I said though. I know he didn't hold you back or…"

Pulling up to the bus station, Dean considered that while he watched his little brother buy the bus ticket that would set him free. He admitted that he'd slipped in school but that he'd fought hard to get the GED that at least got him something to go by if he needed to get a job but what he'd never tell Sam was that he didn't flunk out of High School with bad grades.

Dean had reasons for everything he did and he had one for never telling his brother that up until the day he dropped out, he'd been carrying a low C to B grade level in most subjects. Not the A+ grades his little brother brought him but they would've been enough to let him graduate and even get into a college or trade school if he'd wanted.

No, he'd chosen to drop out with the story of poor grades and mixed-up transcripts in order to give Sam a shot at the life he wanted because Dean knew if he was out of school then he could devote more time to helping their Dad and allow Sam to concentrate on school and dreams of a future without hunting.

Now he leaned against the Impala while offering John silent curses at making Sam feel like he had to go and digging into his wallet. Counting the money in his wallet, Dean swore bitterly at only having a few hundred dollars but quickly took the cash out to stuff it in the smaller bag as Sam came back.

"Bus leaves pretty soon so I guess I'll get…" Sam was hesitant and uneasy now, reaching in to grab his stuff when an arm suddenly reached around his shoulders to pull him into an awkward hug. "Dean…"

"Take care of yourself, Sammy. Watch your damn back because big brother won't be there to do it now," Dean told him, fighting to keep his voice easy and not to shake despite the heaviness on his heart as he eased Sam back but kept his hands on his shoulders with a smile. "Call me if you need anything and…damn it…I'll…just be good, kid," he urged gruffly.

Sam smiled back shakily since he didn't want to lose it in front of his brother now despite the fears building in his stomach. "Come…see me sometime?"

"Maybe, wouldn't want to bring anything nasty to your door," Dean returned, moving a hand to lightly grip and his squeeze his brother's neck. "Check out the co-eds for me…bitch."

"Jerk," Sam managed to get out before having to turn away or let Dean see his eyes fill but felt the fingers on his neck give a final squeeze before letting go. "Bye, Dean."

Only giving a nod, Dean waited he was sure Sam's bus had pulled away safely before he let the first crack show in his shield and he wiped away the tear that fell on his cheek. "Bye, Sammy," he whispered, not going back to the motel right away and wishing when he had that he didn't.

"Where the hell have you been all night?" John demanded the second he walked in the door, smelling like beer, which told the older boy how his father had handled Sam's leaving. "I found us a hunt so get packed so we can…Dean!"

Jerking the hand off the shoulder, he turned to glare. "Your son just left…my brother just left! You think you could give me five damn seconds to handle that before you push another hunt at me?" he demanded, taking the backhand without flinching.

"I told your brother to go so we're done. Now get over it and do what I say!" John ordered gruffly, not expecting the fist that grabbed his shirtfront.

"Sam's not like me! I told you that you'd lose him if you kept pushing him like you did but you didn't listen!" Dean's eyes flashed in anger. "I gave you what you wanted! I gave up my chances to leave to protect Sam…from you so now don't push it or me, Dad," he warned lowly, adding in a dangerous tone. "Sam's my brother and I did raise him, not you so despite what you want or what you say…I will always be with him in one way or another…"

**Present time in Sam's Mind:**

Grabbing a hold of the first solid thing he could, Dean felt something cold run through his blood as he recalled the months after his brother left. The bitterness between him and John had escalated until the morning he first woke up to find himself alone when John had gone hunting alone.

It had only taken Dean a few weeks after that to make his first secret trip to Palo Alto to check up on Sam and it was then that he first discovered that his brother still needed watching because Sammy was up to his neck and over his head in trouble with the popular crowd.

'Dean…' a soft voice sounded like thunder in his head as his vision swam with images of his brother trapped in shadows and facing…

"Oh, hell no," he muttered, green eyes narrowing as he realized what he was seeing. "Sammy, hang on."

Pulling himself to his feet, Dean's hand reached down to touch a photo that made him sit back down. It was one of Sam when he was a baby being held by his big brother and on the back was wrote in Dean's own writing… 'I'll always be with you, Sammy'.

Feeling something tug on him, he knew what it was even as he silently prayed for the first time in a long while and truly meant it for someone to help him find his brother, especially when he realized the door to the room he was in had locked itself.

"_Sonuvabitch!" _he swore viciously, kicking the door as temper turned to panic as that gunshot reflected in his mind. "Sammy! Don't you give in to that son of a bitch! I'm coming for you…"

"You can't save him, you know."

"Great, you again," Dean groaned, turning to see that the soulless version of his brother was sitting much like he had been the first moment Dean had laid eyes on him the night of the Djinn attack and then he recognized that this was the same room as that night as well. "Doing this trip down memory lane isn't goin' to work because I will find Sam and I will handle you."

Looking around the room, Robo-Sam smiled calmly. "Duty and obligation. When're you going to get tired of pretending, Dean? When will you finally say enough is enough and reach for something you want?" he demanded curiously, seeing the green eyes opposite him narrow as he continued. "I mean, Dad made you protect your baby brother. You gave up any chance for a real life and how many times did you take the beatings or the punishment for Sam?"

"It was never duty or obligation and I never once debated or doubted my choice if I deflected Dad away from…you," Dean gritted, pleased to see a small reaction in the other's eyes. "I grew up knowing what Dad did and what it would mean. I wanted my brother to have the chances he didn't have growing up and if that meant taking a fist here or there or a slap then I was fine…so long as Sammy never knew it."

"Oh, Sammy knew it. Even before his little adventure with Michael and Lucifer he knew about some of what Dad did," Robo-Sam replied. "The time Sam was sixteen, before Flagstaff, and you landed in a hospital after taking a hit meant for him? You were unconscious for four days and Dad beat him because you were hurt. You didn't always protect him. Dad would wait until you went out to take little shots and would always threaten to make it worse on you if he ever told."

Seeing that he had Dean's firm attention, he went on. "Did you know that he hadn't been going to Stanford six months when he first called you for help? New kid on campus, got in with a full-ride but barely had any money and just the clothes on his back. He ran afoul of the popular rich kids and their clique. Oh, he held his own to a point. They teased, poked fun, smacked him around and because he knew the skills he had, he didn't fight back to much. Then came the night your precious little brother's naivety got the better of him when he accepted a girl's invitation to a party. His drink was drugged and…how much more do you want to hear, Dean?" he smirked as the muscle twitched in the older Winchester's jaw. "Sam was scared, angry at himself, ashamed but he finally broke down and called you…but you didn't go like you promised you would."

"You son of a bitch! I didn't get any call from Sammy because even soulless you know that I would've dropped everything and been in Stanford the next goddamn night!" Dean snapped, fury pulsing in his ears at the images that were coming now as he pictured his naïve eighteen-year-old brother going through that crap alone. "Someone's lungs would've been ripped outta their chests for touching him!"

"I know that, you know that and…so did Dad," Robo-Sam remarked calmly, explaining. "Dad got the call on your cell and refused to wake you up. He said that since college life, real life, was what Sammy wanted then he'd have to take all the nastiness that came with it. He said to suck it up and move on…then he hung up on him. That was the last time Sam called you.

"I could tell you stuff that this kid has hidden from you that would make you sick because Sammy never wanted to disappoint you or make you ashamed of him so there's things from his youth, from those years he went to school to the four months you were in Hell or that time you kicked him to the curb to hunt alone that I could show you that would say that you aren't his great protector, big brother," the soulless side of Sam sneered, knowing when Dean slumped against the wall that he'd succeeded in what he set out to do. "You can't save Sammy this time either, Dean. Go back because once I deal with the wuss side of this mind I will be coming for you."

The words he'd just heard along with the images that were still flashing as things that his brother had kept to himself made Dean want to be sick. The thought that he'd failed to keep his little brother safe or that Sam had suffered things that he'd always tried to protect him from nearly forced him to give up.

Letting his head lean back to hit the wall, he was scrubbing a hand over his face when he felt the amulet that had appeared at the start of this dreamwalk warm and cause him to look down to recall the night his little brother had given it to him and how important this small thing was to their bond as brothers…until the day came when Dean lost that faith.

"That's what you want me to do now," he whispered, closing his fist around the amulet to feel the warmth much like he had the night Sam had given it back to him upon his return from the Pit. "Lose faith in Sam, lose faith in us…lose him…again. No, I am not losing him like this and I'll die first before I do."

**Elsewhere in Sam's Mind:**

Recalling the sound of the pistol firing and then nothing, Sam's eyes opened to blurry fog to find himself laying on the bed in his apartment in Stanford and on instinct his gaze went up while praying he wouldn't see…

"I was tempted to let you see Jess but even I wouldn't be that cruel…yet."

"Why're you doing this?" Sam whispered, evidently recalling the last night he'd been here because he kept looking up to the ceiling. "If you're me…"

Clicking his tongue while shaking his head, Robo-Sam wondered around to pick up an old photo of a smiling Sam and Jessica. "I'm the piece of you that's going to be in control when this is all said and done, Sammy. It was all good when I was running things because I didn't suffer from the crap that held you back but then it changed when you got back in charge. So now, I'm going to lock the door on all this emo-garbage and you."

A small part of him felt like giving up. Sam understood that if he took back full control, even if he could defeat this soulless part of his mind, that he'd know everything that he'd done and he wasn't certain if he could handle that.

"Oh, you would not like or condone the things I did in the time I was running things," his alter-psyche agreed, picking up the thoughts easily. "I killed, I used others for the bigger purpose, and I'd tell you about the sex but you'd probably hyperventilate if I did that…then there's big brother. I know your guilt tripped mind would never handle what we did to him."

Memories still a little scattered, Sam was certain of one thing and that was his brother wouldn't let this happen…unless… "What have you done to Dean?"

"You don't even fully remember him but you're still worried about him?" Robo-Sam scoffed, shaking his head at his softer side. "Are you referring to if I've done anything to him in here since he was stupid enough to come here after you? Or do you mean what I did while I was in control?" lifting a curious eyebrow before turning to face Sam. "I've showed him some things but what did him in is when I finally told him one of your big dark secrets. I told him about Angela and her friends at Stanford and what they did to you and I might've let some images slip of the other stuff you'd kept from him.

"As for what happened while I was in control…well, if you want to find that out you'll have to take me on but we both know you're too much of a damn coward to do that," he finished, taking an engraved curved handled knife from a drawer in Sam's old dresser. "Dean's done with you, Sammy. He's done giving up what he could have just to save your miserable ass so know it's time to remove you from the picture."

Debating between the knife in his hand and the pistol in his belt, Robo-Sam shifted the hilt of the curved blade in his hand while he took two steps toward Sam who had shifted into a defensive stance on instinct. "Sammy, you can't beat me. I'm bigger than you, I'm stronger than you and…I'm smarter than…"

A shot sounded and he was forced to drop the blade to grab for his bleeding arm as the graze quickly welled up with blood. "What the hell…" turning to see what was happening to his perfectly laid plan the soulless Sam found himself staring into both the business end of a Colt .45 and hard green eyes.

"Knock, knock, you soulless bastard," Dean glared while pulling back the hammer of the .45 again. "You aren't half of what Sammy really is and did you really think that last little stunt would get rid of me?"

"I'd hoped," Robo-Sam gritted, knowing the odds here and vanishing with only a little trouble but not without a final word. "You still won't save him."

Waiting another moment before he lowered the .45, Dean blew out a breath. "Try me," he muttered, gaze searching until it finally landed on… "Sammy."

Pain, fear, confusion and other emotions had hit Sam to make him drop to the floor next to the bed. Fighting to bring all his memories back under his control, he jerked at the sudden touch to his arm but immediately noticed that this touch wasn't hard or hurting so he looked up to see a light from somewhere reflecting off a gold amulet that he'd been trying to lock onto.

Following the amulet's cord up, he could hear concern in the deep voice of the ruggedly handsome man with short brown hair and vivid green eyes that was trying to get him to pay attention when something the man said finally cleared his head…

"…damn it, Sammy. I said I'd always be with you and I will be so don't let this thing win. Come back to…"

Moving his hand swiftly, Sam latched onto the amulet to feel it against his palm and he suddenly had memories of being held while he fought off some sickness and grasping this amulet. He could recall being in near agony as his thirteen year old body struggled past muscle cramps, injuries and fever and clinging to the amulet while Dean held him still so Pastor Jim could clean the welts and…

"…Dean…"

Still talking in the hopes of seeing how far under his brother was, Dean didn't immediately hear the soft voice until he felt the hand holding the amulet give a small, but intentional yank so he looked down to find still too large hazel eyes watching him and felt his chest tighten as he forced the lump in his throat aside.

"Hey, Sammy. Bobby says you are so grounded for making him worry like this," he gave a shaky smile that he hoped looked stronger than Dean was feeling right then as he slowly reached a hand out to place it on his brother's shoulder in order to establish some physical contact and felt that shoulder shake violently. "You about ready to come home, little brother?"

Flashes of memory hit Sam of when he'd been fifteen and a bitter fight with John had sent him running deep into Bobby's junkyard. The frightened and angry boy had run until he hit the bordering woodland then had gotten lost.

Sam wasn't sure how long he'd sat in the cold, dark woods alone until he heard the approach of the one person he knew better than to run from and a gentle hand touched his shoulder while a voice spoke from the dark. It was the memory of those words spoken now that had him slowly looking up but it was when a strong hand gripped his over the amulet that he finally understood. He wasn't alone anymore.

"Dean," he whispered tentatively at first then a little stronger as he tugged on the amulet again to try to reach for his brother when he suddenly found himself yanked fully up from the floor and into his brother's arms. "I don't…I don't understand everything that's happening but…"

"I know you don't, Sammy but we're gonna fix this and get you awake," Dean promised, carding his fingers back through Sam's hair much like he had once while being surprised that his brother was still holding on as if afraid to break contact. "You alright?"

After a couple more seconds, Sam slowly relaxed his grip on both Dean and the amulet to sit back on the bottom of the bed and stared at the curved blade that had been dropped. "I think but…will I be if I take back all the memories?" looking up, there was no mistaking the fear. "Is he right? Am I strong enough to…"

"Look at me, Sam," kneeling down, Dean made his brother meet his eyes while reaching up to grip his neck in the same comforting and silently supportive way that he had learned to use on Sam years ago. "You are one of the strongest men that I've ever known but now you need to believe in yourself because to bring this to a close you need to face both that soulless asshole and the side that's seen more of Hell than I like and while I'll be with you…the final move has to be yours because this is your mind."

Considering the thoughtful and serious words, Sam bit his lower lip as the things he'd been seeing and hearing made him cautious. "Are…are you really here, Dean?" he asked warily, wanting to believe but almost afraid to until he caught the smirk and felt the fingers gripping his neck squeeze again.

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm really here and Bobby is probably still pissed that I used his dreamroot to do it," Dean replied then looked to see where they were and frowned. "Sam?"

"He thought bringing me back to where Jess was killed that it would hurt but nothing he could show me would hurt more than other stuff that I've seen here," the younger Winchester shrugged. "Was growing up ever good for you, Dean?"

That question made Dean stop to stare for a long moment before understanding that while he'd been seeing and coping with his own trip down memory lane his brother had been seeing things himself…things that Dean probably knew he wouldn't like.

"Is that what he's told you, Sammy? That my life sucked so badly that I was giving up on you finally?" even without seeing the way Sam's eyes dropped to the floor, Dean knew the answer and wished he could at least get one solid shot in on that thing. "Sam, do you remember when I dropped out of High School? Can you remember that Dad was gone on a hunt and I asked Pastor Jim to come so he could go into school with me because that school had never seen Dad?" knowing this wasn't the time for this, Dean also understood that for Sam to be able to defeat the doubts planted in his mind he had to see at least one image that would hopefully explain some of his brother's actions.

"Yeah…I think," Sam frowned, trying to remember back that far after all he's been through when sudden flashes of hearing the Pastor turned hunter actually using his stern voice on Dean one night after Sam had gone to bed…

**Flashback 1996:**

"Would you just tell me what the hell put this idea in your head?"

Jim Murphy had heard a lot of things in his life both as a Pastor and as a hunter that made him feel like smacking someone in the head and he knew the moment that Dean Winchester had called him to come pretend to be John that this would probably be another of those times. He just hadn't been expecting it to be for this foolish of a reason.

"I've thought it through, sir…and this is…what needs to be done," the seventeen-year old young man replied while cleaning the weapons left in his care for the third time since Jim had arrived. "Besides, it's not like school was really my thing anyway."

The casual shrug and easygoing manner was a standard reply for Dean and Jim knew that. Just like he also knew that when the young man avoided his direct gaze it wasn't as easy a choice as he was trying to make it out to be.

"Dean, I've been to enough schools for you or Sam since meeting your father to know that despite what you act like in school that it's not the bother you make it out to be. In fact, I happen to know this year you're carrying an actual B to high-C grade level with more B's so you are not flunking," Jim replied, pulling a chair out to sit across from the elder Winchester brother. "You're records are a little messed up but that wouldn't keep you from graduating either so can you please tell me why you're dropping out of High School but telling John you flunked?"

Another sigh came as Dean finally set the pistol he'd been cleaning aside to carefully wipe his hands clean of gun oil and dirt before sliding a report card with an attached letter across to the older hunter. "That's why."

Seeing the straight A report card immediately told Jim that it belonged to Sam as did the attached glowing letter of praise from his teacher. It didn't, on the other hand, explain Dean's sudden rash plan of faking expulsion. "I'm still missing something in the translation, son. Your brother did great as always and his teacher is singing his praises from here to Heaven about how smart Sam is and…"

"…and if he keeps it up until he graduates that she can't see him not getting a scholarship to any college he wants," Dean finished, pushing away from the table in a rare showing of anxiety while looking toward the bedroom where his younger brother was sleeping. "Sammy's not like me, Pastor Jim. I managed to keep him out of this crap for as long as I could until he got too nosy and found the journal and now Dad's planning on Sam being a hunter…despite it being pretty clear that he doesn't want to be one."

Jim had seen that awhile ago and had tried to warn John not to push things on either of his sons but figured that wasn't going to happen. Waiting, he allowed Dean to go on at his own pace and wasn't disappointed when the young man sat back down to drag both hands through his hair like he did when upset.

"Sam wants to be normal. He doesn't understand why we move so much or why he can't have friends or stay in one place or why Dad's so hard on him. He wants to play soccer, have friends and just be a normal thirteen year old and after that stunt Dad pulled this summer that's what I want for him too," Dean went on, looking up to finally meet the understanding eyes of Jim Murphy. "I want my brother to have a normal, happy, apple-pie life. I want him to have the chance to go to school, meet a girl and have what I know I never will."

"You could have those things too, Dean," Jim commented but already had a sad understanding of what was going on in Dean's head even before he saw the boy shake his head.

Tapping the report card with a finger, Dean smiled in a way that Jim only saw him do when dealing with his brother. "If I drop out of school now I can focus on helping Dad more, be around more to take the load off of Sammy so that he can concentrate on school. Yeah, he'll have to cope with Dad, the hunting and training for a few more years but if he stays steady in school, if I can get him through school with these grades, then he can get out of here and be that normal boy he's always wanted to be," he explained while slipping the report card into his own duffel bag. "Five years of good grades and no slip-ups and he can get into a school where my little brother can become anything he wants, Jim."

Wanting to lecture, to tell Dean that sacrificing like this wasn't going to pay off in the end, Jim stared at Dean for a long time until finally he laid a hand on his arm to make him look up. "Is this what you want to do, Dean?" he asked softly but firmly, going on before he could get a typical answer. "I know you've been giving things up since you were small but you're talking about giving up your chances for a real life. Caleb told me about that mechanics school that sent you a letter last fall so I know you have other options. Are you ready to give that up, give up your chance for happily ever after to do this?"

"Caleb's got a big mouth," Dean muttered sourly, recalling that letter and his shock at actually being good enough at something besides hunting and little brother watching to be considered for the program. He also recalled his long inner debate before burning it. "I know it looks like I'm just making another sacrifice for Sam, sir, and maybe I am but…it's what I do. Dad's too obsessive to let even one of us leave so if I took off, Sammy'd never stand a chance with him and you know it. I accepted a long time ago that Dad had my life planned out from day one of his plot to find what killed my Mom. That doesn't mean I have to let the same thing happen to Sam because someone has to want better for him and that's me."

Taking a long while to consider what the teenager was asking of him, Jim slowly nodded his agreement to go in and help with this charade. "I'll do this, Dean," he sighed, holding up a quick hand to stem the flow of gratitude he knew was coming. "I just hope you know when to stop sacrificing things for your family because believe it or not, you deserve some happiness too."

"Seeing Sam happy and knowing he's safe is what I want, Sir," Dean smiled, relaxing now that he knew his plan would work. "You'll see, Jim. Dad won't ruin Sammy's life and maybe one day I can tell people that my geeky little brother is a lawyer or a doctor of something else fancy…"

**Present time in Sam's Mind:**

Clearing his throat to avoid any emotions that might be lingering from that trip, Dean closed his eyes since he hadn't recalled the whole memory and his exact words until it was too late. "Well, Dad didn't ruin your life. I guess I did when I showed up here," he sighed, still remembering how much he'd debated with himself the night he arrived in Stanford to find his brother. "I never once doubted my choices, Sam. Never one damn time did I ever doubt my choices in life."

"You could've gotten out," Sam whispered, recalling the bitter fight his Dad and brother had when John had learned his son had dropped out of school. "You had chances to leave so…" he slowly stood to face his grim faced brother, as the image around them seemed to change.

Feeling the environment swirl, Dean was quick to grab for Sam in case the kid got too disoriented and as he did this he placed both hands on his brother's neck. "I accepted early on what Dad expected of me, Sam. I knew what my life would be from the moment I first understood what Dad did. I was fourteen when I decided that it wouldn't be your life if I could help it," he shrugged, not liking the instant bad vibes this image had even as he was focusing on Sam's eyes. "Sure, I made it hard but then it was also my job to make your life miserable."

"Gee thanks, Dean," Sam muttered but did smile thinly a second before agony erupted in his side and he went down hard with a scream.

The unexpected attack took Dean off guard when a shot sounded and his shoulder was struck, knocking him away from his writhing in pain little brother and against a shelf of books, knocking him out so that it only left Sam and…

"So, I wasn't expecting Dean to be this hardheaded. Time for you to say goodbye, Sammy," Robo-Sam flicked the wrist that was holding the demon killing knife but his gaze strayed to Dean. "Say goodbye to big brother first because I want you to watch as we kill him first."

Struggling to breathe after the knife pierced his side, Sam's already shocked psyche had slipped even further away until he heard this and something else fought for control. The need to protect, the need to save…not only himself but also his brother.

'Dean!' his mind screamed even as the soulless version of himself was kneeling down to rip the blade that had killed demons at Sam's own hands across Dean's exposed throat and he seemed helpless to stop it.

**Out in the Panic Room:**

"What in the goddamn hell?" Bobby Singer had been waiting for what he figured was forever when in reality only about twelve hours had passed when he caught the first signs of change in the Winchester brothers.

Both boys had been tense recently but just as Bobby was about to reach out to test pulses again, he was shocked when first Sam and then Dean's prone, unconscious bodies began to convulse and he saw the first signs of blood.

At a complete loss with this mental crap, a quick call to a not-so close friend had warned him of the risks the boys had taken because any physical injury inflicted in the mind could very well be shared on the body so when Sam's side began to bleed viciously as if cut by something the old hunter began to swear. "Damn, what the hell did those idjits get into?"

"They're going to die."

TBC

**A/N: **Good thing I really don't do death fics, huh? How will Sam and Dean survive Robo-Sam? Can Sam's mind actually survive even if he does take back his memories? And who just showed up with Bobby? Chapter 4 will tell all.

"Time to end this, Sammy


	5. Chapter 4

**I'll Always Be With You**

**Chapter 4**

**The Panic Room, Bobby's House:**

Trying to focus on Sam and Dean, who he swore to throttle if they made it out of this alive, Bobby debated on reaching for his shotgun when he finally just blew out a disgusted breath. "How the hell'd you even get in, Featherhead?" he demanded sourly, too worried right then to care if he was blasted out of existence.

"You inverted a couple of the sigals the wrong way actually which allowed me to gain entrance to the house…but I assume Dean did the ones in the Panic Room since those are done correctly."

"Oh, shut up," Bobby growled, grabbing a clean cloth to try to stem the flow of blood in Sam's side while wondering how badly Dean's shoulder was hurt and what was happening inside Sam's mind. "I have issues and what the hell did ya mean 'they're dying'?"

Since he was unable to step inside the Panic Room at the moment, Castiel stood in the door to watch the concern pour off the older man while both Sam and Dean Winchester's unconscious bodies still showed signs of whatever was happening inside Sam's mind.

"A part of Sam's mind is struggling to keep control and the final way to do that is to kill Sam's main psyche and Dean along with it," the former Angel now turned hyped up demi-God explained as best he could while his face took on a more familiar look of confusion. "I fail to see why Dean would risk so much by…"

"Because you crashed his brother's wall you feather brained moron!" Bobby snapped, glaring over his shoulder. "You know how much Dean will give for Sam so you honestly thought he wouldn't do something this stupid for him? Damn, how much of that Angel brain did you overfry?"

Looking the Winchesters over carefully, Castiel considered what he could see that the older man couldn't. "Dean was hurt when he went in, Bobby. I know I hurt him even though I wasn't trying to back in that house. I thought if Sam was hurt that he'd stay out of…"

"If you don't know how Dean would react to that by now then you don't know him at all," Bobby growled, getting disgusted by this visit. "What do you want, Castiel?"

"I know that Dean won't want my help and he won't want me near Sam but I can give them both a little edge to survive this until Sam can get the upper hand," the Angel replied, watching as the mortals he had sacrificed so much for were now barely breathing. "Bobby, I understand that you've lost faith in me but I swear to you that I didn't count on that side of Sam's mind still being this strong or that it would be able to do so much damage. Please, let me give what I can to help them one more time."

Fully knowing how much Dean would hate that idea, Bobby was more concerned when he felt Sam's pulse jump in his grip while Dean's body seemed to spasm again but it was the moment he noticed a thin line of blood trail from Dean's mouth that he made his decision.

Taking a quick look around the Panic Room, he quickly used his knife to scratch a couple anti-Angel sigals apart and scowled at the new 'God'. "That shiny knife may not hurt you and I doubt if Holy Oil will anymore but I promise…if you hurt either of those boys I will find a way to hurt you before you blow me up. You hear me?"

"I mean neither Dean nor Sam harm, Bobby," Castiel was disappointed that he'd lost the faith of the mortals he called friends but a part of him could easily understand it. Just as he also understood that Dean would not want his aid in helping Sam and him in this matter, so with a gentle touch of a hand on both hunters chests he gave what he could as a final token to the mortals who first taught him what it meant to be human.

"What're you do…?" Bobby scowled when he turned around to find Castiel gone and the room as it was with just him and two unconscious Winchesters but he noticed that Sam's bleeding side was no longer evident and the boy's fist was clenched. "Balls!"

**Inside Sam's Mind:**

Knowing that the demon killing knife on Sam's already tattered mind would keep the boy down for the time needed, Robo-Sam gave a swift and hard kick to Dean's stomach before kneeling down to grip a handful of short hair. "You should've taken my advice before, 'big brother'," he declared coldly, lifting the knife to slice it across the barely conscious hunter's throat. "You should've walked away from this a long time ago."

The knife began to strike when a strong grip grabbed the wrist holding the weapon and a swift pull yanked the soulless version away. "He's not your brother and get the hell away from him."

Landing with a grunt, Robo-Sam easily rolled back to his feet with a cold intensity. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, when will you give it up? You can't beat me," he chided, slashing the knife easily but frowned when the blade only sliced air as his main psyche moved quickly. "You're bleeding, your mind is still in tatters and without Dean to protect you…what are you? What…?"

"I'm a Winchester, that's what I am," Sam replied, having avoided the blade aimed for his stomach easily after something deep inside him snapped him back to full attention at the thought of his brother's death and he felt a warmth in his side that also seemed to give back the strength he'd been lacking as well as a confidence. "I'm a hunter. I'm also Dean's brother and I'll always have his back. Now back the hell off."

"You're a lackluster hunter, wimp," Robo-Sam sneered, gripping the knife in a simple grasp while noticing that Sam was keeping one hand behind him. "Just run, Sammy. I promise after I deal with Dean and that other side of our head I'll take you out easy."

Glancing over quickly to see that Dean had moved so that he could keep a hand over his shoulder but it was when he saw his brother's eyes were open and watching him that Sam understood. This was his moment to be the defender and the moment he saw the quick grin flash in support he made his move.

"No, I don't think so," he returned, so tired of nearly everything thinking he was so weak that when even a piece of his own mind did Sam had finally had enough. "You want to hurt my brother, you want to take back control of my mind and body? Fine, you take me out first to do either you cold hearted son of a bitch," Sam snapped, motioning with one hand towards himself as he'd so often seen Dean do when provoking something. "Bring it."

Furious at the lack of fear, he advanced quickly with a knife thrust that he knew the out of shape young man wouldn't be expecting and counted the victory when Sam remained standing still as if waiting. "I'll make you watch while I slit his damn throat and…guh…"

Gasping suddenly when Sam's other hand waited until the last possible moment to strike out as he leaned away from the lethal strike aimed at him he brought out the curved knife that had been one of the few weapons he'd taken to Stanford with him. "No, you won't," he gritted, refusing to ever be forced to watch his brother suffer or die again and not at his own hands. "I may not be the cold, professional hunter you are or that Dad wanted me to be but by God at least I haven't turned into something that I would hunt…unlike you. Now go back to where you belong and leave me what you took."

"You…" dropping to his knees in surprised shock, Robo-Sam stared at the gaping wound in his stomach and chest before looking up at Sam with an expression akin to pity and amusement. "You…ain't won, kiddo. You won't like what…I know and if you think…I'm bad…he's got worse waiting…for you," he promised as he fell forward to allow a large thin, cloudlike, ball of light to leave his body and hit Sam full-force in the chest causing him to drop to his knees.

Not knowing what to expect at the 'death' of his soulless self, Sam hadn't been expecting the sudden painful rush of memories of the time he spent hunting with the Campbells or of the things that he did while that part was in control and he certainly hadn't known what would be shown of the time when he rejoined Dean to hunt.

"Sam…?" pushing himself up with a grunt, Dean took quick notice that his shoulder had quit bleeding but then he had more pressing matters as he struggled to get across to where Sam was still on his knees. "Sammy!"

A quick look told Dean that the shiny cloud-like energy must have been the memories that part of his brother held and that now Sam's own self was fighting to reabsorb those and with a violent curse he also knew what a few of those would be. "Sammy, come on. Talk to me, kiddo!" he shouted, kneeling down in front of his younger brother to grasp shoulders that he could feel shaking under his hands. "Sam…"

Sam could hear his name being shouted with more desperation than he'd heard from Dean except for in Cold Oak because he could recall hearing the same building terror in his brother the night he died as he was now but he couldn't bring himself to respond as his mind took in images of his body cold bloodily killing innocents as a means to an end, he saw himself making plans with Samuel that under any other circumstances Sam would have been sickened but what threatened to destroy him even faster was the memories of…

"…Dean?" eyes closed tightly against the images burning to get out, Sam was terrified of what he'd see reflected in his older brother's green eyes if he looked at him now. "I…you stayed…I let you be…oh God…" words running together, he finally tried to push away from the hands that were attempting to keep him still. "No, let me go!"

Shoving away, his hand hit the shoulder that had been hurt which forced Dean to relax his grip which immediately allowed Sam to try to run as images, fears, shame and loss all hit him at once but between the wound he knew he should still have to the shock of defeating this part of his mind to having the more violent memories along with knowing he'd hurt his brother all given back with brutal force, Sam was off balance and fighting to get out when a strong arm caught him. "No…I didn't mean…"

"Sammy! Stop and look at me!" Dean snapped, having managed to grab his brother before he got too far and had to admit for such a tall and gangly kid that Sammy's agility had improved as he had to be quick to contain his little brother by dropping under another well placed blind punch to step around behind him to try to hold him still.

Dean was well aware that this was a move that he needed to be cautious with since his brother had always freaked when restrained but especially if he'd been restrained or grabbed from the rear. Quick to pin his arms, he used an ankle sweep to bring Sam down to his knees while maintaining his grasp. "Sam, it's me. I know what you've seen and now is so not the time to handle it, little brother."

"I did hurt you," Sam strained to break the hold on his arms but after a couple more minutes finally gave up to slump back, his chin dropping to his chest while his hair had gone into his eyes. "Even worse than when Dad hurt you cause of me…I stood by and let you be turned into a vampire!" he shouted, that image burned into his mind as he still saw that soulless thing standing with a smile on his face as a vampire attacked Dean and turned him. "I know enough about faerie lore to know what happens to mortals taken to their realm and while you were being hurt I was…damn it!"

Tightening his arms around Sam to not only keep him still but also to offer the support he knew his brother needed right then, Dean ran his tongue over his teeth while considering what to say to this. Neither were topics he particularly enjoyed thinking about if he was honest with himself but he'd known that once Sam learned about them that he'd have to face them but first he needed to get Sam calmed down.

"Where was I when those hunters nailed you?" he asked and he knew the moment Sam went still that he had his attention. "Where was I when you first had to encounter Lucifer alone? I haven't always been the greatest big brother, Sammy and while I wasn't thrilled with some of the things that happened after learning that you were alive but the one thing I want you to focus on right now…"

Shifting so he could ease around to face Sam fully, Dean placed both hands on either side of Sam's neck to lift his head up. "The man that did those things was not you," he stressed, gently squeezing his fingers like he used to when he needed to make a point to Sam and just wanted to be casual with it. "He didn't care about anything or anyone. You aren't that man and he's gone. Will you hit me with the biggest chick-flick moment when we get back to reality? Hell yeah but that's who you are,"

Giving a final but easy shake, Dean offered the smirk that had always told his brother that they were good and prayed it still worked. "You're my little brother and we'll face this together but first there's one more thing you need to face."

"Hell," Sam whispered, reaching up to shakily grasp Dean's wrist before taking a deep breath. "This won't be easy."

"Nope, but then nothing we do is easy," Dean shrugged, standing before extending a hand to his brother while giving a glance at his shoulder and feeling surprised that it had stopped bleeding and hurting. "If it was, we'd have given it up a long time ago. I'm proud of you, Sammy."

Allowing himself to be pulled up, Sam was a little startled that his side wasn't hurting like it had been when his eyes shot up at those last words. "For what?" he asked quietly, not understanding. "Maybe if I hadn't let all the concern about pleasing Dad or being better build up then Robo-me wouldn't have been able to take control so easily and I still have to face…the memories of…that."

"I'm proud that you didn't give in to all the crap that you've gone through in here. You stood up for yourself and saved my ass which was supposed to be my job coming in here to save you," Dean smiled, keeping one hand on Sam's neck while laying the other on his shoulder. "Now, you ready for this next one, little brother?"

Sam knew this next step would be the hardest and he could tell that despite the confident tone that Dean was also more worried about him facing and accepting the memories of his time in the Cage. A piece of Sam wanted to beg his brother to forget this one, to let him try to wake up without those memories because just the things that Robo-Sam hinted at and the little flashes that he'd get that he never told Dean about scared him.

"You're not a coward, Sammy," Dean told him quietly yet firmly, feeling the atmosphere get thicker as it has been right before a change in scenery. "As someone who spent four months in Hell I know how bad this will probably be but I swear to you, I swear on my Metellica tapes, that I will stand with you no matter what and I will never let you face anything like this alone again. Okay?"

Recalling his childhood where growing up often meant following in his big brother's footsteps and learning what he knew from Dean, he remembered seeing images this time and hearing what he'd been told. He'd fought back despite the urge to give in. He'd done that to make his brother proud and Sam knew that he'd never have that same pride in himself unless he took this final step.

Tightening the grip on Dean's wrist, he slowly nodded but gasped when his eyes seemed to swirl, Sam heard Dean shout something even as he felt himself being grabbed and supported while things settled until things began to clear enough for him to see…

"Bobby's?" he stared around the library at Bobby's house but immediately felt that this was still in his mind. The feelings and the way the house seemed lit only by various candles, battery operated lamps but nothing that would give a good view. "Why?"

Keeping an arm around Sam's shoulders until he was sure the kid wasn't going to faceplant to the floor, Dean wasn't certain why this scene would take them back to Bobby's unless it was because that was where they were in real time.

"Could be a couple of reasons but I'm hoping it's because this is where we're at and your mind knows it's almost home," he replied, feeling Sam shake more than he liked so he went to put himself slightly in front of his brother when he heard the gasp before he caught what had forced Sam to freeze. "_Sonuvabitch_."

"Hey, Sam…Dean."

Unaware that his fingers had gripped tighter into Dean's arm, it took Sam several moments before he found his voice as he stared at the shadowed silhouette of what he knew without asking was the side of his mind that had suffered through the Cage.

Sitting at the table in the dark kitchen, this side of Sam's mind kept his head down enough that his full face couldn't be seen but he did lift his eyes enough to gaze at Dean. "I told you to go, Dean."

"Yeah, well if there's anything of Sam inside you then you know that ain't happening," Dean snorted, hissing a warning when he felt Sam ease past him to step into the kitchen. "Sammy…"

"You tried to warn Dean away?" Sam wasn't certain if that was a good thing or not or who this side of him was trying to protect by doing so. "Why?"

Hell-Sam continued to sit in the dark, his palms flat on the table with longer hair falling into the eyes that he was keeping down. "You don't want this Sam. You don't want Dean here for this and you don't really want to take this back on yourself," he remarked, voice deeper and more harsh than what Sam knew his normal tone was.

Sensing that while Dean clearly wanted to put himself in the middle again he was willing, for the time being, to allow Sam to handle this himself which gave him more courage because that meant his brother trusted his judgment again.

"Maybe not but if there's one thing I've learned so far is that no matter how much I might not want the bad memories, the pain, the shame and whatever else is involved I have to face them or else I might as well curl up into a ball and die," Sam shrugged, feeling a hand touch his neck and once again silently glad that the mistakes in his past hadn't cost him the brotherly support that he'd grown up with. "I…don't want Dean hurt but I also know that his being here gave me the strength to fight back when I needed to."

Slowly pushing to his feet as if in pain, this Hellfire burnt psyche laid his hands flat on the table closest to what appeared to be a bloody knife. "This is your last chance to walk away, Sam. Go back, forget this, and just deal with things as they are," he urged, finally lifting his head to show the vicious wounds, the burns and the hollowness in his own eyes as they stared at the elder Winchester. "You know what else he'll learn. Aside from the memories of exactly what was done to him you know exactly what Michael or Lucifer probably said to him because they knew to hurt him more would be to tell them about you. Are you ready for him to face all of that? Do you want him to suffer…"

"No, of course not," Dean's right hand had clenched into a fist as he thought of what his little brother might be setting himself up for and how much of his buried past that he'd have to face in order to get Sam over it. "If I had a choice? I'd lock the kid in a bubble to keep him safe from this but I don't. Sammy's not eight years old anymore and I can't protect him from every little thing…despite my best efforts to protect him from this crap. It's his choice and all I can do is be there for him," he shrugged.

Watching this exchange, Sam's brow furrowed as he considered what he was hearing. It had always been plain to him that his brother hadn't been fully honest or forthcoming about his four months or forty Hell years but he hadn't thought that some of those things might have been kept to protect him.

"Dean?" turning so he could see both his other self and his brother, Sam watched the way Dean had tensed and recognized the movement of his clenched hand as the way his brother had always moved when fighting to urge to protect or shield when Sam was determined to do something on his own. "Is there something I should know that maybe I should've known after you came back?"

"Yeah, probably," Dean admitted slowly then shook his head. "But I'm not hitting you with it now. I'll deal with the fallout and I'll come clean with you but I am not talking to you about it before you do this."

Taking a step to carefully put his back to Hell-Sam so he'd be able to look Sam fully in the face, Dean took a deep breath before making an admission that he'd sworn he never would. "Odds are good that you were told things in that Cage that I never wanted you to know…just like Robo-jerk told me some things that you probably didn't want me to know…Sammy," he grabbed for a shoulder that he knew would be retreating. "We can't change what happened to us in the past because if I could…I'd make damn certain you stayed out of this life despite my selfishness.

"I know you're scared to take back these memories and I can't tell you not to be," he shot the mental side of his brother that had been in Hell a warning look. "Do I know what you went through? No, no one does but you…and this guy. Do I care that this could hurt you? Hell, yes, I care about that because I've been trying to protect you for twenty-eight years and I've screwed up so…I'm leaving this up to you, Sam," Dean moved his eyes between the two visions of his little brother while hoping he was making the right choice. "You can choose to accept these memories back or leave them alone but no matter the choice you make I'll stand by you and I'll always be proud of you."

Surprised when those simple words made his eyes begin to sting, Sam nodded tightly and then took Dean by surprise when he reached out to give him a hard hug that he held longer than he knew his brother normally would allow. "Thanks, Dean," he whispered, swallowing the rest of what almost slipped out in favor of stepping back with a shaky smile. "Now go back to Bobby."

"No, Sam…" Dean didn't like the feelings he was getting by this sudden change and had no intention of leaving until he knew they could do so together but frowned when a hand touched his shoulder. "Sammy."

"I can do this, Dean," Sam assured him, glancing at his other self finally, and understanding that this was something he needed to do alone. "I know you want to protect me and help me but I need to face this by myself. I…I want you to go back to Bobby and probably dig out the whiskey cause we'll probably need it when I wake up."

"One shot of Jack always lands you on you ass, little brother," Dean reminded lightly, forcing a laugh while debating on arguing over this decision when a long look between them made him sigh in disgust. "Fine, but you better be right behind me cause if I have to come back in here I will so be kicking your ass later," he warned, coughing before reaching out to give Sam's forearm a tight squeeze and taking off the amulet to press it into his brother's hand. "You can do this, Sam."

Nodding, Sam smiled and returned the gesture, staring at the gold amulet in his hand and knowing that his brother was offering both support and strength by giving it to him, but waited until Dean had stepped far enough away and he could feel the change that meant his brother wouldn't be able to change his mind before calling out. "I…I love you, Dean…and I'm sorry. Now, let's finish this."

The words were a din in his ears as Dean could feel himself slipping from the dream state but it was the break in the tone that alarmed him enough that he tried to reach back to grab for Sam when it suddenly dawned on him what his brother was doing only to hear another sound.

"Damn fool idjit Winchesters!"

Gasping as his mind snapped back to full consciousness, Dean sat straight up. "Sam!"

"Well, it's about damn time one of ya woke up!" Bobby sounded disgusted and worried but that was before he added. "Now, you want to tell me what the hell caused this?"

Twisting around to look, Dean was off the floor in a heartbeat as he grabbed for his brother's convulsing body and his concern turned to outright panic the moment he noticed that not only were Sam's eyes rolled back but he had blood trailing from his nose and mouth. "Sammy!" he shouted, moving to grip his neck while Bobby reached for something under the bed. "No!"

"Dean, he's gonna hurt himself if we don't…" the older man tried to argue when the heavy strap was jerked out of his grip and thrown across the Panic Room. "Sam's going to end up hurting himself if we can't stop…"

"I'll handle him but I swore after the last damn time that I would not ever tie him down again and I won't!" Dean snapped, rage shooting through him at the idea of using those straps again but then he was too busy swearing under his breath the moment that Sam went still. "Sam? Hey, little brother, come on. I said you'd better be right behind me so wake your ass up and…"

Bobby had been watching the brothers because the moment Sam's body stopped moving he felt an odd change in the room that he knew was bad because he'd felt a similar feeling…after Cold Oak and the older man knew the moment that he caught the way Dean's body had gone rigid that things were bad. "Dean?"

Expecting his brother's eyes to open shortly after he stopped thrashing, Dean waited a minutes before moving his hand down to feel for a pulse but instead of feeling the strong beat that he was waiting for he felt his own stomach drop.

"Sammy?" not feeling a pulse, Dean swore violently as he laid an ear next to his little brother's chest but heard nothing to indicate a heartbeat. "No, no, you are so not doing this to me, Sam," he growled, feeling Bobby try to move him but shrugged him off to focus on Sam. "You're stronger than this and goddamn it, you did not send me out because you knew this would happen! Sam, wake up!"

Not knowing fully what had happened, Bobby was afraid he could guess just by what he was hearing Dean say as he struggled to perform CPR while talking to the still form of his brother. "Dean…stop. It's…it's over, boy."

"No, no it's not over," Dean gritted, slashing at his eyes and not giving a damn about the tears he could feel fall as he finally leaned back from where he was sitting on the bed next to Sam to just watch him for a long moment when he noticed the single tear that had fallen down Sam's face. "Don't do this, Sammy," he whispered, reaching up to wipe the tear away but left his own as it began to sink in that this wasn't a bad dream or something he could fix with a promise or a deal.

Reaching down to clasp one limp hand tightly in his, Dean placed his other over Sam's heart but still felt nothing to indicate life and every emotion that he'd kept buried for twenty-eight years seemed to explode as it hit that this could very well be it.

Sam had known the risks of facing that final obstacle in his mind. He'd known the odds of surviving these memories would be slim and had made certain that the one thing he still had that he loved would be safe and Dean had naively fallen for it.

Remembering the way Sam had clung to him during that final hug and then those last words told Dean everything he needed to know. His brother hadn't expected to wake up. Sam had expected to…

"Sammy!"

TBC

**A/N: **OK, I know what this looks like but I promise that this **IS NOT **a deathfic. Trust me, people. I will fix this in Chapter 5.


	6. Chapter 5

**I'll Always Be With You**

**Chapter 5**

**Back in Sam's Mind:**

Hell-Sam, the part of Sam Winchester's mind that kept the painful memories of his time in the Cage with Michael and Lucifer, stayed silent as he watched the last encounter between the brothers. "Sending him out now won't stop the pain he'll suffer."

"No, I have to hope Bobby can help him with that but at least I know that no matter what happens Dean will live," Sam spoke quietly, tensing when he turned to see the bloody knife held in the other's hand.

"Easy, I'm not going to fight you, Sam," Hell-Sam assured him as he flipped the knife around so that the hilt was held toward the now confused young hunter. "Unlike that other side, I don't want control. I just want to forget. You don't know what you're asking for if you take these back or how they're affect you."

Watching the burns seem to spread on this other psyche's face, Sam bit his lip but slowly took the knife to look at it. "I know what the odds are and that's why I wanted Dean out of here," he shrugged, considering before he asked his next question. "I'm scared to death to do this and I know that Dean said it was my choice but I want to make him proud of me…I want to earn my brother's respect and I can't have his if I don't respect myself so I'll take these back. I just want to ask you one thing. Why did you try to warn Dean away? Why did you tell him that he knew some of what I'd learn?"

Looking away from Sam's earnest gaze, Hell-Sam was slow to gaze around the darkened kitchen. "Sam, there were things that happened to Dean in Hell that both Michael and Lucifer knew and they bragged to you about it. Things that Dean never wanted you to know…just like Dean's found out things in here that you didn't want him to know," he replied grimly, stepping closer. "You'll find out things about what really happened to him, what Alastair did to him and why he finally gave in just like you'll remember the things that happened to you.

"Guilt and pain, Sam. You will feel and have to deal with guilt and pain a thousand times worse than anything you've ever dealt with before. Do you honestly want those memories?"

Staring at the knife in his hand, Sam's eyes then fell on both the thin black band and the amulet he was holding. "No," he whispered then sighed. "But I have to. I'm a Winchester and while I might not have been the son my Dad wanted all the time I will be the brother that Dean can be proud of…even if it does hurt me."

"Then I hope you know what you're in for," Hell-Sam remarked seriously, taking another step forward just as Sam tightened the grip on the bloodied knife. "Good luck."

"Forgive me," Sam murmured, pushing the knife forward in the hard and fast motion to strike this final psyche's chest and was immediately hit with the same bright white energy only this time Sam felt more than agony.

The energy that struck him left a burning, searing pain all over his body and Sam could feel himself falling to the floor as memories came at him in brutal, vivid waves. He could feel himself falling, he felt the fear and then nothing but agony when Sam was suddenly hit with the emotions as the livid voices of two furious Archangels punished him for his actions in Stull.

Struggling to reach out for something to ground himself with or to try to make his way out of this dream world, Sam was trying to reach for the voice of his brother when he was knocked back down as images and a sneering voice sent a wave of pain through his heart and this time it was too unexpected for Sam to fight back and he felt his chest heaving a second before his eyes started going white and Dean's voice began to get lower and further away. "…Dean…help…"

**In the Panic Room:**

"Sammy!"

The angst ridden scream echoed not only through the Panic Room but also the basement as Dean Winchester was forced to begin to accept the painful truth that his brother was really dead and he was powerless to stop it.

Slumping down next to the bed, he scrubbed both hands through his short hair while fighting not to grab up the limp form and beg to anyone who would listen not to do this again. "I never should've left him. I knew the moment he hugged me that something was wrong and I should've…"

"Dean…" Bobby wanted to step closer but knowing how the boy reacted in this mood stayed back for the moment. "If you'd've stayed in his mind, you would've died too and Sam wouldn't've wanted that. He's too much like you that way."

Looking up at the older hunter, Dean's green eyes looked older and more tired than Bobby could remember seeing in a long time but it was what else he saw reflected in them that worried him.

"And what do you think is going to happen now, Bobby?" Dean threw back, bitter anger plain in his voice when he looked down at the matching black band on his own wrist before looking back up. "This is the third damn time that I've lost him…well, the fourth if I count the time I died and unlike those times there are no deals to make or no picking up and going to Lisa."

Pushing up so he was kneeling beside the bed, he reached out to clasp a cooling, limp hand tightly in his but felt the last of his hope fading when he felt nothing in return. "I barely survived the year I thought he was locked up in that Cage. There wasn't a single damn day that passed that I didn't consider every morning or every night drinking a couple bottles of Jack, taking the Impala out and either slamming it into a tree or eating my Colt."

"Dean!" Bobby snapped, the depth of loss he was feeling for Sam was now switching to alarm for Dean since he had no doubt that he'd never control the older boy this time. "Sam sent you out so you'd live. You do something stupid and it would just dishonor…"

"He was my responsibility!" Dean shouted, jumping to his feet to lash out when he pulled back at the last moment to turn back to gaze at Sam. "I swore to protect him when he was six months old and I screwed that up so much but I promised him this time, I swore to him in there, that I'd be with him through all this crap and I wasn't! He faced the worst of his memories alone! He faced…this alone…again so don't tell me that I'm dishonoring Sam by not wanting to do this again," he snapped, wiping a hand over his face and not caring when he felt tears on his face. "It was supposed to be me and him against the world. It was supposed to be us fighting all the evil sons of bitches out there and saving people. I…I can't do this alone. Does that make me a damn coward? Maybe but I can't let me little brother face who knows what who knows where by himself."

Reaching down to run shaking fingers through Sam's hair, Dean felt his heart break when he noticed the way his brother's hair fell back into a familiar pattern into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sammy," he whispered, feeling his stomach clench and wanting out; needing out before he lost his meager breakfast.

"Dean! Don't go doing anything stupid!" Bobby shouted but made no move to stop the boy. "Damn it," he muttered, feeling like overturning something in the room as his eyes landed on the younger man and felt his own eyes tighten.

Bobby recalled the first day he saw both Winchester boys and how lost he'd felt, how out of his element, the first time John had left them with him. It seemed like a lifetime to Bobby since he had such a hard time connecting this 6'4" young man with the tiny infant he'd first held.

Not for the first time did Bobby offer some unkind words up to John Winchester for ever involving his sons in this life but he also knew that he and Jim shared some of that responsibility as well. "Goddamn it! You caused this to happen, you son of a bitch! Now get down here and fix it!"

Not hearing anything to show a response, Bobby slumped down on a chair next to the bed to reach out to place a hand on Sam's shoulder much like he once had. "Boy…I know probably why you did what you did but Sam if you can still hear me then fight it cause that idjit brother of yours ain't gonna pull out of this like he has before," he removed his cap to twist it between his hands. "Sam, I'm…sorry everyone let you down so much and you grew up into one helluva hunter and one great young man. I know I wasn't your Daddy but…I was…I am proud of you."

Hearing the front door slam made Bobby's scowl deepen because if he knew Dean was one thing it was self-destructive and having him loose in the junkyard in this mood was bad. "Damn fool idjit," he growled, hurrying out of the Panic Room to try to rein Dean in before even wanting to address the other matter.

Leaving the room in such a hurry, the older man missed the soft white glow that filled one corner of the room before slowly floating over toward Sam to hover, drop and then spread as in enveloping the still young hunter.

**Outside, Singer Salvage:**

Not certain where he was going when he left the house, Dean just knew he needed out in order to breathe and not empty his stomach as every emotion he'd fought to bury the past couple years seemed to want to come out at once.

The emotions and memories he'd relived and seen while in Sam's mind had brought back things that Dean hadn't thought about in many years. It had also given him a glimpse into secrets his brother had buried, things that Dean knew he should've been with Sam to face or at least found out about them.

"_Sonuvabitch_," he whispered, not surprised when his hand touched the hood of the wrecked Impala since aside from his brother the 1967 Chevy Impala that was home to both he and Sam was the only other thing that usually would ground him.

After having the car recently wrecked by the strong wave of demon energy, Dean's plan had been to actually break down and teach his little brother how to fix it with him this time. He recalled Sam's earnest desire to help him fix it after their Dad's death and his refusal and he recalled the wary joy that had lit his little brother's face the afternoon that Dean had handed him a socket wrench to work on the engine.

Having to face his brother grew up from eighteen to twenty-two without him had never been an easy thing for Dean. Nor had it been easy for him to allow Sam back in to the emotions that those four years apart had closed off even at times when all Dean had wanted was to protect and shield.

Kicking a tire, he felt the rage inside him as he could remember the way John had raised them, the way Sam had struggled to be accepted as both a normal kid and as John's son. Dean also suddenly knew now how much Sam had struggled with his own identity even in Stanford since he'd often felt like the odd one out but the anger at their Dad for keeping Sam's one call from him was also huge.

Glancing into the backseat, his gaze landed on the still firmly lodged Army man and Dean felt his throat nearly close as the emotions choked him. So many times that Army man had meant security to Sam, it had meant unity and it had connected them as brothers.

Now Dean struggled to hold back the tide that threatened to overwhelm him as he considered doing the impossible. Running a hand over the roof, he sat on the passenger side to lift up the scattered cassette tapes that he'd collected over the years until his fingers landed on the Metallica one and he vividly recalled the day shortly after collecting Sam from Stanford that his brother began teasing him about the type of music he played.

"Driver picks the music, Sammy," he whispered, wiping his eyes and nearly crushing the tape in his hand when he merely repacked them in the box to be dealt with later.

Glancing back to the house, Dean opened the trunk and began removing the weapons, the books and other things that they kept in the hidden section of the car so that Bobby wouldn't have to do it before. Looking up at the dreamcatcher hanging there, he recalled the night Pastor Jim gave each of them one because Sam had always been prone to bad dreams.

Touching the duffel bags, he laid them aside but refused to touch Sam's. He hadn't brought himself to go through it after Stull and this time would be worse but he figured he wouldn't have to since he planned to put both duffels back in the car minus any weapons inside them.

"Dean."

Fingers clenching into a tight fist, Dean refused to turn from staring into the near empty trunk and fought not to reach for the small jug of Holy Oil in the corner of it. "Get the hell away from me," he gritted in a harsh tone ravaged with emotion. "Get away or I'll see if Holy Oil still works."

"Dean, I'm…sorry," Castiel kept his distance since even he wasn't certain if Holy Oil would still work on him or not.

"Sorry?" Dean wasn't certain if he wanted to snarl or laugh at the absurdity of that statement. "You're sorry? Are you freakin' kiddin' me? You caused this! You knew the risks Sam faced if that wall fell and you kicked it down!" he shouted, slamming the trunk lid down to finally whirl to face his former friend. "You put Sam down. Now he's dead and I can't get him back this time so now you can go on with your precious War in Heaven, wipe out all the Angels you want because I'm out of it. I won't let Sam face this alone."

Considering the young hunter he'd come to know very well, Castiel could guess what Dean was meaning and wishing he could tell him not to waste his life but knew he'd never listen to him now. "I tried to keep you and Sam out of this, Dean. I thought by helping you both before that it would give Sam the strength the survive this. I didn't think this would…"

"By taking back those memories, it wasn't just what they did to him that Sam took back but he also got the crap that Michael probably laid on him about me!" Dean fought not to take a swing at the former Angel and he knew the moment Castiel's face changed that he understood Dean's concern. "You, of anyone, know exactly what happened to me down there and why I gave in to that bastard. You know why I kept that from Sam so you should know how he'd react to finding out that he was the reason, the tool that finally worked, to get me to surrender to Alastair."

"Dean, I understand how much grief you have and how much pain you've suffered at seeing things in Sam's mind but you have to understand that Sam understood the risks he faced and that's why he sent you out," Castiel frowned at something he felt suddenly but chose to focus on Dean for the moment. "You've protected Sam for as long as he could remember and this was his time to offer you that protection. He…"

Dean Winchester feared few things but the two big ones were being left alone and accepting or having to say the three words he'd stopped hearing after the death of his Mother and the moment Castiel came too close to saying them his hand shot up flat. "Don't say those words," he growled, wishing he'd said them more to Sam and wishing he could say them to him now.

"Sammy fought everything that was shoved at him. He survived what both Heaven and Hell wanted for him, he survived being infected with Demon blood and so many other things. He survived and I will always love him and be proud of him but…" reaching up on instinct to grip the amulet that once had hung around his neck and hoping the dream version had given Sam some peace at the end, Dean bit his lip. "Do I blame you for Sam's death, Cas? Hell, yeah but no more than I blame myself and my Dad for letting him get into this life to begin with. Now I'll ask you for one thing since the way I see it, you owe me."

Considering that this could be a bad thing to agree with, Castiel was trying to focus on Dean while also trying to see what was causing him to feel something from the house. "I will do what I can, Dean," he agreed slowly then watched as Dean's hand lightly ran over the Impala as if remembering a fond memory.

"Help Bobby burn the Impala and just try to keep an eye on him until he's over this," making certain to keep his back to the ex-Angel, Dean swallowed the lump that was forming. "He won't like doing the one thing but I'll…I'll take care of Sam."

Blinking in confusion much like he once had done, Castiel's eyes opened wider the moment it dawned on him what the hunter was saying and it was then that he forgot his caution as he stepped forward to place a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You're going to…you want Bobby to…" he stared at the elder Winchester's rugged profile but didn't miss the shine on his face as tears fell when Dean's hand closed around the Army soldier he removed from the rear ashtray. "Dean…no…"

"Dean!"

Bobby's shout came from the front porch but it was in the loud tone that reminded Dean of when he and Sam had been boys and the hunter wanted them inside for the night and didn't feel like hunting for them. A quick wipe to his eyes cleared his vision but Dean wasn't certain he was ready to face going back inside even as he swore he felt an odd warmth replace the icy cold that had been gripping his heart.

"Dean, go see what Bobby wants," Castiel urged, sounding confused but a sharp sound that only he could hear seemed to be warning him to steer clear. "I can't…"

"You stay the hell away from my brother," Dean snapped, pocketing the Army man before taking a shaky breath to still his nerves and heading back to the house.

Growling under his breath about idjits and Winchesters, Bobby was stalking the porch like a caged tiger when he spotted Dean. "I've been calling you for thirty minutes, boys!" he growled, shooting an uneasy look back inside. "Try answering me."

"Sorry, Bobby. I was…just doing something in the car," Dean coughed, not feeling like explaining his plan to the gruff older man yet. "I didn't mean to leave you here alone with…I mean, it's not your place to take care of…that."

Wondering if he slammed the boy's head into a railing if that would smack the sense back into him, Bobby decided against that plan for the time being. "Dean, I am trying real hard not to slap you but boy, if you don't get your ass inside and downstairs by the time I count to ten I might lose that patience," he warned seriously, not giving the younger man a chance to argue when he shoved him in the door. "Git!"

Not wanting to face this job so soon, Dean figured he owed Sam the time to sit with him and try to explain, to apologize for everything but it was when he opened the door that led down to the basement that he felt the change in the air.

Where it had been ice cold there was a strange warmth along with a smell of something that he thought was familiar but couldn't place right then.

Dean was halfway to the bottom when the sound hit him first. He thought he heard a soft voice talking, no more like calling…for him. It was when he recognized his name being called that he paid more attention. The moment he realized that both the sound and his name were being called from inside the Panic Room is when Dean felt his breath catch, his heart jump and he didn't remember the going down the rest of the steps.

His next memory was of hearing that soft voice get stronger as it would when as a child he'd have a nightmare and call for his big brother to slay whatever imaginary monster had been in the closet. He could hear the confusion, the longing and near panic build.

"Sam?" he whispered, certain he wasn't hearing what he thought he was until he heard the tired voice speak again.

"…you said you'd…always be with me. De'n…where're…"

Dean was across the basement and at the door to the Panic Room in what he figured was record speed to shove open the half-closed door. "Sammy!" if he hadn't been holding onto the door, he knew he would have dropped to his knees the moment tear-filled, too wide hazel eyes shot up to lock with his. "Sam…"

Having snapped back to life with a gasping pain as life seemed to be fused back into his body, the first thing that caught Sam's attention was that he was alone. The second thing was that he had all his memories, good and bad and finally, he just wanted his brother because the voice he'd heard in his ear as he came back told him that he had to get to Dean before he did the wrong thing.

Confused at what was happening and not understanding what had brought him back fully since Sam knew in his mind that he was dying, at that moment he had just wanted to see Dean. To be reassured that this was real and not some cruel joke since both Michael and Lucifer had been good at those in the Cage.

Sam knew Bobby would be griping for years about being scared to death over seeing Sam's eyes snap open the way they had but as he'd sat on the bed while Bobby had gone to find Dean, he kept running something between his fingers until he heard the one voice that he needed to hear.

"Sammy!"

Snapping his eyes up to lock on those of his older brother's, Sam felt the dread and anxiety begin to ease and they vanished fully the moment he started to reach for Dean only to feel himself pulled up and into strong arms that held on tightly with a grip that assured him that not only was this real but that he was safe.

"Dean…" he whispered, not wanting to lose it this soon but when he felt the fingers gently grip the back of his neck and squeeze like they had so many times he felt the first sob start to break free. "I'm…"

"Chick flick rules are out the window, little brother," Dean's voice was gruff with emotion that he struggled to contain but he just tightened his arms the moment he felt Sam go to move back. "I could ask but I just don't care what let this happen. You're breathing, you're awake and you seem as sane as you ever were so…"

A shaky laugh escaped as Sam let himself hold on tighter when he felt himself be held even as his legs seemed to want to give out. "I…I remember."

"Yeah, sorta figured you would, kiddo," Dean sighed, keeping a tight grip on Sam as he decided to try to at least get him to the first floor since now that he was reasonably awake he wanted him out of the damn Panic Room. "We'll talk about that later."

Exhausted after this brutal ordeal, weak from literally coming back from the dead and just plain tired from recent events, Sam found himself leaning more on Dean than he normally would have allowed himself to even a few years ago.

"Hey, Dean?" he yawned, something still echoing in his ears. "Give Bobby your Colt for a little while, please."

Not replying right away, Dean considered trying for the bedroom on the second floor or just making do with the sofa seat in the library when Sam seemed to automatically make his own choice by going in the direction of the library even though he hadn't fit on that seat comfortably since he'd had his first growth spurt at age fourteen. "Why?"

"Don' want you dyin'," Sam mumbled, falling asleep fast now that he knew he was safe and that his brother was with him. "She said you were gonna do something…stupid without me…"

Frowning at this, Dean waited until he had Sam laid down to sit on the edge of the seat to lightly card his fingers through his brother's hair that seemed to have returned to an earlier style of flopping in his face rather than the slicked back way he had been wearing it. "Who said that, Sammy?" he asked, wondering if his brother had been hallucinating or if it was something more until Sam shrugged sleepily.

"Mom. She said you were self-destructin' again and that you were going to shoot yourself," he flopped easily onto his stomach, which even amazed Dean that he could do that on the tiny sofa seat then opened eyes that had pupils going wider as shock began to set in. "She even said you asked Cas to help Bobby burn the Impala. Dean…you wouldn't…"

Swallowing hard at both his brother's words since he knew that Sam shouldn't have known those things and finally placing the leftover fragrance in the basement as the perfume Mary Winchester always wore, Dean blew out a breath.

He debated on lying to keep his brother calm or being honest and just letting the chips falls. In the end, Dean decided it was time to face that he couldn't protect Sam from every little thing and that he also had to learn to share his own emotions. "Yeah, Sammy. That was my plan," he admitted, quietly, feeling the boy tense and was quick to lay a hand on the back of his neck. "Past tense, little brother. I'm okay now and so are you. Now go to sleep and I'll be right here."

A slight burst of fear went through him as Sam wondered if he'd wake up again if he fell to sleep when he felt his brother's familiar touch making the silent but still comforting signs and sigals on his shoulder and back as he had years ago when Dean would need to keep Sam calm and quiet in the car. "Stay here?"

"I'll…I'll always be with you, Sammy," Dean assured him, those words obviously still had meaning since he felt his brother relax slowly into a restful sleep when he noticed what Sam had pressed into his palm just moments before falling to sleep.

Letting the black cord unfurl, Dean stared at the gold amulet that he'd tossed in a trashcan in some random motel nearly two years ago. He'd accepted that the amulet in Sam's mind had been a prop of the environment so seeing this, feeling the warmth of it in his palm made his own eyes mist.

"I'll ask you about this later, Sam," he whispered, slipping the amulet back on to feel the familiar weight settle back against his chest as he felt another weight leave his shoulders. "Thanks, Mom."

Easing down so he could sit on the floor with his back against the sofa seat, Dean let his eyes move to the ceiling as if looking up toward where he hoped his Mother's spirit had found a home. "Thanks for bringing him home…before and now," looking back, Dean let a slow smile form as he noticed that Sam's face was relaxed and almost at peace.

He didn't know what the coming days would hold for them but he knew that no matter what it would always be just him and Sammy against the world. "Love you, Sammy," he whispered, letting his eyes close and missing Bobby in the doorway or the whispered 'Crazy, idjits.' as he fell to sleep himself knowing that they were safe for the moment and he planned on it staying that way.

TBC

**A/N: **Y'see, I told you I'd bring Sammy back, lol. I was going to end it here but decided to throw in an Epilogue so watch for it.


	7. Epilogue

**I'll Always Be With You**

**Epilogue**

**Singer Salvage Yard, 1 month later:**

"Are you sure…"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Y'know, now would be the perfect time to…"

Head buried in the engine, Dean Winchester felt like snapping but his mood was still too good to give in to what he knew was his brother's intentional way of annoying him. "Sam, I don't care what time it is you are not replacing my cassette deck with anything digital," he growled, keeping his voice hard but smiled when he heard the laugh from inside the car.

It had taken several days of Bobby harping, yelling, and lecturing before Dean was willing to allow Sam out of his sight or before he was even willing to allow Sam to do anything even remotely strenuous. Even a month since waking up again with all his memories, Dean was careful to keep an eye on what Sam did and had managed to keep him from asking or talking about things…so far.

"Dean?" Sam debated with himself on bringing this up as he sat in the interior of the Impala to try to figure out the electronics but hoped his brother was distracted enough not to avoid it.

Checking to be sure all the wires were reattached, Dean had just moved to give the wrench a final twist when the tone in his brother's voice made him pause. "Yeah?" he called back warily, suspecting what would be coming next and hoping he was wrong.

"Is that really what happened?" Sam asked quietly, trying to keep his eyes focused on the wires when his hands shook at the memory in question and he dropped the wire cutters.

"Is what really what happened?" leaning into the car, Dean picked up the cutters and noticed his brother's shaking hands so he decided to set the tool aside in favor of checking out the wiring himself. "I don't have your memories so…"

The next sound he heard reminded him of when Sam was a kid and pissed off at some comment Dean made so it didn't come as a surprise when he saw the typical bitch face aimed at him. "Sam…"

"Is that why you avoided talking to me about your time in Hell?" Sam demanded, seeing the way Dean had tensed which was more of an answer than any spoken one. "I know why you wouldn't have talked to me about a couple of those things but…you gave in to him after thirty years because he…"

Skimming some protective coating off the wiring so he could twist them together, Dean didn't want this talk. He had never wanted his little brother to ever know what exactly he'd endured in Hell with Alastair and his demons much less the truth of what had finally made him break.

"Dean…I have to accept what happened in Hell. I need to learn to deal with these memories but to do that I need to know if what they said was true," Sam wanted to reach out to touch, to comfort but he suspected that his brother wouldn't be receptive of that so he was a little shocked when a hand shot out to grasp his arm before he could ease out of the car.

"I told you that I'd be there for you while we got you over this," Dean began quietly, going back to work on the radio for a couple more moments before leaning back to watch Sam and smiling enough to ease the younger man's fears. "I'll always do that and I'll answer the questions that I can when I can but Sammy, I need you to understand that I'm still not ready to talk to you about everything that happened."

Replacing the front of the radio with an easy touch, Dean's eyes took on a dark look as he remembered his own memories of Hell. "As you probably could tell, Alastair wasn't used to being refused for very long so when I kept telling him where to stick his offers he had to get creative," he let his eyes move to glance at where Sam's hand hovered just over his arm. "After thirty years of doing his worst he finally hit the one leverage that I couldn't fight against. He threatened you, Sammy and I refused to let that bastard touch you so I…gave in."

Dean was quick to grab for his brother because he knew this kid and knew how he'd react to this bit of news. "Sam, it was my choice and I didn't regret protecting you. I didn't like what happened, or what I did down there but I will never regret doing it to keep you safe."

"Dean, Alastair couldn't have…" Sam began when he caught the way Dean's face had tightened in a way he recalled and felt his stomach flip as realization dawned on him. "Ruby."

"You wonder why I despised that bitch, Sam? Alastair was only too happy to brag at how Ruby had you wrapped around her little finger and how easy it would be for her to deliver you to him and I wasn't letting that happen," Dean replied, tightening his grip just enough to keep Sam's eyes on him. "I didn't want you to know because I knew how you'd react but I want you to let go of what they told you about me because those are my issues and we'll cope with them as they come. I want you to focus on healing from what they put you through."

It was still those memories that sent Sam waking up in the middle of the night screaming and despite his brother's reassurance that eventually the bad dreams would ease Sam had his doubts and wished he would stop waking Dean and Bobby up but he couldn't stop the burning images that would awaken him.

Sam remembered the first few nights were the worst because he couldn't wake up fully and the images and pain were still so real to him that he fought against Dean even as he tried to wake him up and keep him from hurting himself as he thrashed. "I'm sorry for hitting you the other night."

"Nah, don't worry about it," Dean smiled, shrugging it off while reaching into his denim jacket to hold something out. "You want to put this back in?"

Staring at the plastic Army man, Sam's hand slowly reached out to take it from his brother. "Sure you want it back in?"

"So long as I'm the one fixing this car everything stares the same in it," Dean replied firmly, eyeing the Army man before letting his eyes slide to the rear ashtray. "The legos, that guy, the old cassettes that drive you nuts…it's what helps make her home," he shrugged, coughing to cover his unease. "It's a part of us so it goes back in and since you're the one who jammed him in there in the first place I guess you should do it again."

Chuckling, Sam seemed to relax more at that and sat in the backseat to consider how to best put the little plastic toy back in so that he'd stay put when he noticed that Dean had turned in the front seat to watch him. "What do we do next?" he asked curiously, wiggling the toy a few times before he seemed pleased that it would stay. "I mean, Cas is sort of…"

"Off the deep end of the pool," Dean finished with a familiar eyeroll, scowling as he also thought of the future. "I'm hoping he stays focused on Heaven for awhile until we get a better grip on how things are down here because it's going to take a little work to figure out how to depower him."

Only having Dean and Bobby's description on what happened toward the end of things, Sam wasn't certain if they could deal with the former Angel but accepted that he and Dean probably had other issues to cope with first. The biggest, he knew, was his ability to cope with memories he could do without and knowing that Dean had clues to things in his past that he was honestly surprised his brother wasn't jumping for answers on yet.

"Dean?" Sam had climbed out of the car to see that most of the trunk was still sitting on the tables under the lean-to where the car had been parked. "Umm, how much did you see in my mind?" he asked quietly, nudging a dreamcatcher with his finger when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, I didn't see any wild parties with co-eds if that's what you mean," came the quick and easy reply even though Dean was fully aware of what his brother was asking and sighed. "I mostly saw things with us and Dad," he admitted, fighting with himself not to ask the one thing he wanted to when it was taken out of his hands.

"I know he told you, Dean."

The murmur was soft which was a sure sign that Sam was uneasy and he wanted to forget this whole thing except he knew that he couldn't expect his brother to ever open up to him if he wasn't willing to at least try to do the same thing. "I know he told you about Rhonda and what happened the night of the party."

"Yeah, he did and you can forget the next words that I know'll be coming," Dean laid both hands on Sam's shoulders to turn him fully toward him but had to remove one in order to use it to cup his brother's chin firmly in order to make him meet his own eyes. "First, if I had gotten your call I would've been there as fast as this car could've made it and someone would've died. It wasn't your fault, Sammy and he just used it as a way to hurt you again."

Dean made it a point to keep his gaze locked on Sam's while squeezing gently on the shoulder he still had a grip on. "This ain't gonna be easy for us and yeah, I know the no chick-flick rule is being suspended for the next few months but…don't ever say I didn't do anything for you…bitch."

"Jerk," Sam's reply was instant and automatic and slowly as he watched his brother's slow smirk form he smiled more. While it wasn't a fully Sammy-smile like Dean would want it was a start and both Winchesters knew that. "You risked a lot by what you did, Dean."

"No, I did want I needed to, little brother," Dean returned, stepping away to sit in the car again with the keys in his hand. "There wasn't any risk too big since I had no plan on letting you go that easily…though you are so grounded by that stunt you pulled."

Figuring he deserved that since he'd guessed that Dean wouldn't be happy when he figured out why he had nudged him out of his mind, Sam remained silent on that as he eased down into the passenger seat and was surprised at how much he'd missed this. "I never lost my grip on your amulet," he whispered, knowing that Dean had questions on how he'd gotten it back in reality and not even Sam had that answer. "It was in my hand when I woke up."

"Well, we'll just chalk that up to another one of those endless mysteries that remain unsolved," Dean had a hunch he might know how his brother had come to have it but really didn't want to focus on that yet as he slipped the key into the ignition to turn the engine over and felt himself relax fully at Sam's laugh when the Impala started on the first try and sounded smooth except for a couple little things that only Dean's ears picked up. "Toss me a cassette and we'll see if you messed it up too badly."

Sam shot him a typical bitch face but reached into the box with unerring fingers to find the one tape that he almost always grabbed while running his tongue over his teeth. "Y'know, you seriously have got to update your cassette tape collection."

Fingers nearly fumbling as he went to slide the tape into the player, Dean shot his younger brother a look that was part warning and part amusement. "Why?" he deadpanned, keeping himself from putting the tape in fully just yet as he watched a full smile come to Sam's face.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes and second, Black Sabbath, Metallica, Motorhead? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," Sam quoted a line that he was surprised came back so easily but he was also surprised by his brother's full laugh since normally it took a lot to get Dean to give that.

"House rules, Sammy," Dean smiled, shoving the tape in before reaching over to grab his brother around the neck to pull him closer and messing up his hair all in one motion. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole…or is Sammy still a chubby twelve-year old?"

Understanding what was being asked and also catching the emotion in Dean's voice that he was trying to hide, Sam slowly swallowed his own emotions as he reached out to grip onto his brother's arm. "Normally," he began slowly, lifting his eyes as he went on. "Except to my big brother since I think I'll probably always be Sammy to you and…that's what I want. I'm not asking for full time over protectiveness but I also don't want to be on my own again either. I want us to be the way we were."

"The whole over protective thing is up for debate until I know for sure you're alright but…" Dean nodded after a moment, flipping the volume up with a smile. "The rest of that I can live with…Sammy."

Sam smiled even as the radio blared 'Back In Black' from the newly installed speakers and things finally began to feel right to him for the first time in a long time.

Watching as his brother fiddled with some other wires to adjust the sound, Sam knew that things wouldn't be easy on them but he accepted that so long as he had his brother and Bobby with him that he'd continue to get better day by day and would always watch Dean's back since he knew from that moment on it would be just them against the evil in the world.

Just the way it had always been meant.

"I still think we should've upgraded to the I-Pod," he teased, laughing at Dean growled something under his breath about over his dead body and he leaned back to close his eyes, unaware of when the music was turned down and something soft and leathery was laid over him as he slept.

"Get some sleep, Sammy," Dean whispered, having laid his old leather jacket over his brother before going back to repack the trunk with increasing interest in what the future held for them but was confident that they'd handle it as it came. "Unless Bobby kills us for giving him a stroke," he muttered to himself.

**THE END**

**A/N: **Well, this is it…the end. I'm sorry it took so long and I hope everyone who read this story enjoyed it. Now, it's back to work on Mirror Images and maybe a Father's day story,lol.


End file.
